


Bran's Story

by StuffandThangs11



Series: A Lion Tamed [4]
Category: Criminal Minds, Original Work
Genre: Abduction, Anxiety, Biting, Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Chains, Coercion, Collars, Depression, Dog Fighting, Dog Tags, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Enemas, Execution, Forced Rape, Gang Rape, Hand Feeding, Human Trafficking, Humiliation, Immobility, Leashes, Manipulation, Medical Experimentation, Mental Coercion, Multi, Murder, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Power Play, Psychological Trauma, Puppy Play, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Coercion, Situational Humiliation, Subdrop, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Voyeurism, Watersports, psychological reconditioning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-07-12 05:16:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 83,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7086862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuffandThangs11/pseuds/StuffandThangs11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904">A Lion Tamed</a>.  It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.</p><p>The world is very dark and twisted.  If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He slowly breathes in and silently counts the numbers in his mind - one... two... three... He breathes out just as slowly - three... two... one... Another inhale - one... two... three... And an exhale - three... two... one...

It's the oldest trick in the book to curb an anxiety attack. Bran is uniquely familiar with it. And right now, when he's encased in a coffin-sized box, the box rattling as it's being transported from one location to wherever it is they're headed, the technique is sorely needed. How did he get here? Where is he being taken? Who are these people? It's time to take stock.

There's very little to say about Bran's life before his world is turned upside down. He grew up in a tiny town where his dad owns the local hardware store and his mom is the receptionist at the local veterinarians office. He has two brothers, one older, one younger. He was a hometown hero, quarterback of the high school football team the year they made it all the way to state. That's a big deal in a small town.

Did he go to college? No. Bran wants to continue being a hero so he joins the military. He serves in the army for six years, two deployments overseas, then comes home after his unit is hit by a mortar, his left side is torn up by shrapnel. The things he does there, the things he witnesses there; like many military veterans these days, he returns to a world that doesn't make sense to him and doesn't want to make the time to help.

Bran has severe PTSD, enough so that they won't send him back overseas again no matter how much he wishes he could be there to fight alongside people who _get_ him, people who understand. He's given medals for bravery and sacrifice, given honorable discharge and then quickly forgotten.

He had a fiancé before he was deployed, Linda Grady. She was beautiful and sweet. She made him laugh. She gets him through training camp and two deployments. When he returns to the states Linda is sleeping with someone else. It breaks his heart. That's the end of that.

With PTSD he has a hard time holding down a job. He has a degree in engineering in thanks to Uncle Sam but can't find enough stability inside his own damn head to do anything with it.

He tries a job cleaning up the roadways. He tries serving beer at one of the local bars. He tries sacking groceries and mowing public property. All of these jobs fall through.

People don't think much of the those who drive the dump trucks through their alleyways and streets to pick up their trash. At least, they don't think much about them until they don't show up for work. During a particularly bad episode, Brandon doesn't show up. People complain. He loses that job too.

His family and friends don't understand why he can't just magically get better. Anytime he's around them he ends up making things awkward. He doesn't laugh when he should. He doesn't smile as much as he used to. In fact, he's quicker to sarcasm and anger than he's ever been before. He used to smile and laugh all the time. He doesn't know how to fix what's broken.

His brothers want him to take drugs and go to therapy. Bran tries drugs for awhile. The pills take away his alertness and make the PTSD worse. Bran needs to be alert and sharp or he loses his cool. Bran tries therapy for awhile. Fuck therapy. That asshole couldn't understand even if he tried.

It's easier for his family and the world at large to look the other way. That's how Bran winds up alone, living on the streets of a small town in Minnesota. 

Bran does what he does best. He fights. He's signed in on the underground cage fighting circuit here and there. It isn't something he has to show up for every damn day. He shows up when he can. He wins some. He loses some. He wins more than he loses. It makes him just enough money to keep food in his stomach and occasionally get into a cheap motel room for a shower and a good night's rest.

Otherwise, he's got a few haunts. There's the alley behind Joe's Diner where Joe sometimes brings him something to eat. Sometimes Joe lets him clean tables or wash dishes for a few bucks. There's also Hal's Bar, a place called The Tick Tock. Hal and Bran grew up together. Hal's brother is also the guy who slept with Bran's ex-fiancé while he was overseas. Maybe Hal feels guilty about that because he gives Bran a few free beers every now and then.

It's while he's in Hal's bar, on his second free beer, that the stranger sits down across from him. It's a man who's probably about the same age as Bran, dark shaggy hair and brown eyes.

"Just admiring all your tattoos." The man says.

Bran has tattoos all over his arms and legs. Some on his back that wrap around his sides. He got them before the military and while he was enlisted. He holds out his arms, studying a few of them. "I like ink."

"You like the pain." The man gestures to a tattoo on Bran's arm of a skull wearing a beret in front of a U.S. flag. The words 'United States Army' surround the skull. "You enlisted?"

"Veteran." It still feels strange to say that. He should be there, with his unit, fighting.

"Hey, let me buy you a beer."

"That's not necessary."

"No really, it'd be an honor. I'll be right back."

Bran would argue, but the guy slides out of the booth and goes up to the bar to ask Hal for two more schooners of beer. One beer won't hurt.

The man comes back with two tall schooners and sets one in front of Bran before sliding into the booth across from him again. "To the good ol' U.S. of A."

Bran smirks and clinks glasses with the other man before taking a healthy pull from the beer. The good ol' U.S. of A. hasn't been very good to him lately. Still, he can't turn his back on her completely. He's patriotic through and through. If he could be overseas fighting, he would be there in a heartbeat.

"I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. I can't quite place it."

"Maybe in here?"

"Nah..."

"I'm at Joe's Dinner down the street sometimes."

"Not there either."

He doesn't want to ask if the guy remembers the year the high school football team made it to state. Reliving your glory days never looks good on a person who's all washed up. He almost asks if he's seen him sleeping on the streets, but ultimately decides on a better question. "You like to watch fights?"

"That's it." The man snaps his fingers and points at Bran. "Those are illegal, you know."

"Shit." Bran smirks. "Not if you don't get caught."

They both laugh and Bran drinks more of his beer. "So you've seen me fight."

"Yeah, probably a few times." The man nods. "I like to bet good money on them."

"Hope I won you something." Bran lifts a hand to hide his yawn.

The man shrugs. "You're a winner. I always bet on winners. Besides, two guys going at it like that, gets my blood pumping."

Bran's eyes narrow and he tilts his head while looking at the man sitting across from him. "You're gay?"

"Does it matter?"

"Guess not."

"You can't tell me that you've been overseas with all those guys and you haven't messed around a little."

Bran shakes his head, chuckling a bit. "Fuck no."

"Not even a little?"

"Nope." Bran takes another drink and shrugs. "I might've kissed my cousin who's a guy when I was a kid. But that was just kid stuff."

"Hey, that counts."

"Like hell it does." Bran yawns again. "Shit. I'm tired."

"You're beautiful when you fight."

"Huh?" Bran looks up again. The man across from him is splitting into two and then three. Bran blinks and three is back to one.

The man holds up his beer in another toast. "To winning."

"To winning." They clink glasses and they both drink their beers.

"That's what you do when you fight. You fight like your life depends on it. You get knocked down again and again, but you get back up and fight. Your opponent has to knock you out to win every single time."

Bran gets the feeling that this guy has definitely watched him fight more than once. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end. "What's your name again?"

"I'm Jesus. And you're Brandon Clancy. People call you Bran. You have two brothers, a mother and a father. You have a degree in engineering. You tried to be a mechanic for awhile. You tried bartending. You tried to drive garbage trucks. You can't keep a job."

He cants hiss head back to rest it back against the top of the booth. He's so tired. "How the fuck do you know all that shit?"

"I sent all this information and video of your fights to a person who's looking to cultivate someone of your temperament. She thinks you're beautiful. She wants you. She can give you a better life than this, than living on the streets."

Jesus is sitting next to him now. He has Bran's beer in his hand and has lifted it to Bran's lips. Bran drinks because of instinct. Most people will try not to let a drink dribble down their chin.

He lifts a hand and pushes the drink away. "You know what? Fuck you. Fuck you, get outta my way." He pushes at Jesus to get him out of the booth. Then Bran staggers to his feet and toward the door to the bar.

The world is blurred around the edges and spinning. Not much happens in a small town so there aren't a whole lot of people out and about. He's out on the street and is about to stumble to the ground but an arm around his waist catches him. Bran feels a prick at his arm and looks down to see Jesus putting the needle away in his coat pocket.

"I got you. This way." Jesus says.

Bran is not in control. He's vaguely aware that he's been drugged. His mind isn't sharp. This means he's about to lose his shit. He flails, spinning and punching Jesus. His fist lands hard and without Jesus's support, his knees buckle to the ground. He pushes back up to his feet with Jesus's help and then tries to hit him again. This time Jesus is ready and uses Bran's momentum against him. The world starts to slow down. Bran's movements are clumsy.

"Ketamine. The world is about to look very different for you. Time is gonna get real messed up for awhile."

The entire universe shifts, it skips a beat, it skips several minutes maybe. Because suddenly he's in a car and his hands are tied behind his back. The car is moving and he has no idea where the fuck they're going.

"What the fuck...?" He whispers.

"I knew I'd need more than just ketamine with a wild one like you. Just let what I put in your beer help you relax, Bran. Accept it. Sleep."

Time skips again. Fuck that's weird. "Accept it?" Is it too late to respond to that? It's been several minutes according to the clock on the console. "Fuck you." His head drops to the side, eyes almost closing, and Bran fights to stay awake. "Fuck you. Where are you taking me?"

There is no answer. Time continues to skip. Eventually, he can't fight whatever was in his beer and he succumbs to sleep.

When he wakes he's in a box. His head is swimming. The box is dark as can be. Bran is still restrained. He can't feel his arms. He lifts his legs to push at the top, turns as much as he can to push at the sides. Nothing budges.

His heartbeat might as well be a snare drum for how fast and hard it's beating. He can feel the blood rushing through his veins. His skin feels scorching hot. He has to calm down. He realizes now that he hears an engine. The box is bouncing slightly. He's in a moving vehicle. He also just now notices that he has no clothes on.

_Holy fuck. Who did I piss off?_

He can feel the world zeroing in on another PTSD episode. He's gasping for air. Everything is hot... hot... scorching hot. He thinks he feels the sting of sand blowing against his skin. He thinks he feels shrapnel cutting into his skin. He thinks he smells death.

"Breathe. Damn it, Bran... breathe."

He breathes in - one... two... three... He breathes out - three... two... one... Another inhale - one... two... three... And an exhale - three... two... one...

He jerks his right foot to the left in rapid succession so that it tap-tap-taps against the wood.

Inhale - one... two... three... Exhale - three... two... one...

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Breathe in - one... two... three... Breathe out - three... two... one...

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

Bran breathes in slowly, exhales just as slow. His mind becomes sharper, clearer. Ketamine. He remembers that word now. He knows that drug. They've used it before in interrogations of hostile witnesses overseas. Damn, it really sucks.

Some asshole named Jesus drugged his beer and then shot him up with ketamine. Apparently Jesus has been watching him for awhile since his last fight was a week and a half ago and he's said he's seen more than one. Now Bran's in a box being taken to who knows where. Bran can't wait for this box to open. He can't wait to kick Jesus's ass.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Bran has time to sleep twice, time to wake up and panic again three times. At some point he feels the box lifted and jostled, transported to another vehicle, he assumes, and then they're off again. He screams bloody murder, a string of profanities, and kicks at the wood while he's transported between vehicles. It helps nothing. He only hears laughter.

He eventually has to piss on himself. There are worse things. He has to remind himself of that. He's been in a war torn country before. There are definitely worse things.

His thoughts are many and scattered. No one will look for him. No one will mourn him if he dies here. No one will give a shit except to tell stories about how crazy Bran got after the war, how he used to be something big, a hometown hero, and now he's nothing and homeless and a crazy, fucked up bastard.

Bran sleeps again, but it's a restless sleep. After that he simply dozes in and out. His throat is dry, his stomach empty, his energy drained. Still, the ride is long.

When the vehicle finally stops, Bran readies himself for a fight. His arms are numb and his wrists bound, but that doesn't mean he won't fight. He feels the crate hefted up and carried, feels it shift and roll.

Patience. Patience.

The crate is set down none too gently. He hears the click of heels on a hard surface and a female voice. "This is my rabid dog?"

"Yes, Mistress. His photo is here."

"Ah, yes. He is lovely. Very good. I have set up a plan for him. It is to be followed to the letter so that I may have the outcome I desire. The staff is prepared for him." Bran is trying to figure out if he's ever heard that voice before, a voice smooth as silk and heavily accented. But no, it isn't familiar. "He is to be taken to the labs first."

"Of course, Mistress."

The box is hefted up again and Bran slams a foot up into the top. "Hey! Let me the fuck outta here! Hey!"

There's no response, but he hears a series of beeps and clicks. The box is angled as if he's being carried down, forever down. Bran taps the side of his foot against the wood; tap-tap-tap-tap.

Breathe in - one... two... three... Breathe out - three... two... one...

Inhale - one... two... three... Exhale - three... two... one...

The crate is set down. He hears the click of locks and braces himself. When the top opens the light above is blinding. Everywhere is white and bright, a stark contrast to the darkness he's been in for who knows how long. Several men surround the box, several automatic rifles are trained on him.

He whispers the words that his unit used to say when they were under heavy fire or in tense, unpredictable situations. "It's a good day to die."

Bran won't ever go down without a fight. He clumsily pushes to his feet in spite of the rifles, in spite of the blinding bright light, in spite of his nudity, his bound hands at his back and the men screaming at him to stay in the box, to kneel, to get down. Bran growls and steps out of the box. He barrels into one of the men, hunkered down and shoulder first. The man is knocked back onto his ass but Bran's victory is short-lived.

The group of men are on him in a second. He's pushed to the ground face down and held there. Still, he fights. He feels a prick in his right buttock. Damn it, he really hates drugs.

An older man in a lab coat is leaning down over him. "What a reckless pet you are. I'm Doctor Young. I'm going to fix you right up, my boy."

Bran only has one thing to say to that. "Fuck."

There's something uniquely disturbing about the inability to use your limbs. The more whatever drug they just gave him takes hold, the less he's able to fight. He can't try to push up off of the ground. He can't move his arms or his head or his legs. He can't even move his fingers.

The men shoulder their automatics and heft Bran up like a sack of potatoes.

_Come on, you have to fucking breathe._

One... two... three... Three... two... one... He breathes long and slow again and again.

He's laid on a table, awake but immobile, his mind just a little bit fuzzy around the edges. Bran starts to curse them, his words slurred and incomprehensible as he has no control over his jaw or tongue. They eventually put a gag in his mouth to shut him up. Bran mumbles around the gag.

For several hours he's cut open, poked and prodded. He's awake but immobile for all of it.

He's awake when they cut into the inside of his left arm, put some sort of small circular disc in there connected to his veins and then stitch him up. He's awake when they flip him over on his front and spread his legs, when they put something inside of him that painfully opens his ass and poke his insides with needles. He's awake when they cut into the back of his neck at his spine and do something there as well. He's awake when they inject him with a chip and a tracker at his shoulder. He's awake while something is inked into his ankle.

It's hell. It's torture. But not as much torture as the drugs he's given. Bran can handle most anything being done to him. Take his control over himself away and therein lies the real torture. He can lie still and let all manner of things happen as long as it's his choice to lie there and let it happen. Nothing is sharp right now. Everything is like swimming through murky waters, like looking at everything through the wrong prescription.

He glares up at the ceiling when they flip him back over and strap all four limbs to the table. Doctor Young pats his arm and tells him he's a good pet. Bran mumbles an unintelligible 'fuck you' at the doctor. He focuses on breathing deeply, slowly, counting each breath. He doesn't want to panic. He doesn't want to give them any ammunition to use against him.

_Who the hell are these people?_

He's left alone with only one guard in the room with him. The guard moves over to the side of the table and removes the gag. He puts two fingers into Bran's mouth. Bran wishes like hell that he could bite down on those fingers, turn his head away, do anything. He can't do it. His jaw is as slack and his head as immobile as the rest of him. Those fingers spread some of Bran's own spit around his lips. Then the Guard presses a button to raise the top half of the bed to sitting and then another button to lower the entire table down.

The man opens his fly and straddles the table.

_Oh hell no._

Bran tries to turn his head away, tries to pull at the restraints on the table, tries to shut his mouth. He growls a sound that could have been a string of curse words if he could make his mouth work right. The guard grins and shoves his cock into Bran's mouth.

_Fuck._

Bran chokes on it. He coughs. He tries to turn his head again and can't. The intent is strong but his body won't cooperate. 

The guard never says anything, he just starts fucking Bran's throat and Bran tries so damn hard not to give the man the satisfaction of choking and coughing again. He refuses to look upset or bothered or humiliated. He just glares up at the man and takes it. What else can he do?

Nausea rolls through Bran's stomach when he feels and tastes the salty bitterness of cum in his mouth, sliding down his throat. He's almost glad that his gag reflex is minimal right now. Puking is also something he refuses to give this asshole.

Bran takes in a deep breath when the guard pulls out of his mouth. The table is lifted back up, the top half of it folded back to lay straight. Bran can almost imagine that what just happened didn't really happen. Yeah, he'll tell himself that for now. That makes it easier. It didn't fucking happen.

He breathes slowly, counting his breaths to make sure they're long and deep.

It's hours later when he can move his fingers and toes. His fingers tap out a rhythmic tap-tap-tap against the hard metal slab. Bran clears his throat and the guard spares him a quick glance and that's it.

"What's going on?" Bran is so pleased to be able to speak again. He has to somehow try to keep them from giving him any more drugs. "What is this place?"

The guard says nothing.

"¿Habla Inglés?" Bran tries. That doesn't work either. Still, the guard says nothing. The man just did that thing that didn't happen a few hours ago and now he won't speak or look at him. It pisses Bran off to no end.

"Fucking son of a bitch." He mutters.

Bran shifts uncomfortably on the table. Something is different about his body and he can't quite pinpoint what it might be. He tries to focus on anything but that discomfort. The room looks like any basic doctor's office. Only this hard table looks like something a person might find in a morgue. 

He spots a red flashing light in one of the top corners of the room, a camera? Bran flips the camera off even though his hands are restrained. Everything in here is sterile and white. No artwork on the walls. There's nothing to take him outside of this situation.

He waits. He breathes. He keeps calm and he waits for what feels like forever.

When the gray haired doctor finally comes back into the room, Bran is ready. "What is this place? Why am I here?"

"There there, pet. You're right where you should be." Doctor Young pats a hand against his cheek and then goes through a series of tests; blood pressure, shining a light in his eyes, checking his pulse. "Very good. You've taken to your upgrades nicely."

"Upgrades? Are you government?" Bran asks.

The doctor chuckles and shakes his head. "We're your future. Your upgrades will help you to live that future well."

That aged hand reaches down to stroke Bran's cock and Bran jerks on the metal slab, pulling at his restraints. His ass clenches tight and he realizes then what has been feeling so strange and uncomfortable since the drugs started to wear off. His ass is... itching, strange, needs something.

_Fuck._

"What did you do to me? What the fuck did you do?"

Still, that hand strokes at him and he feels a shameful arousal, a humiliating need, run rampant throughout his insides. Bran feels sand against his face. He smells blood and death and he can't breathe. His heart rate ricochets up to extreme levels and he's sure he's about to meet his death.

_It's a good day to die. It's a good day to die._

Something sharp and painful and electric courses down his spine and through his insides, causing his body to vibrate and shudder to a stop. It's like being hit with a ramped up taser.

"Calm yourself, pet." Doctor Young says, pressing his fingers against the fresh incision at the back of Bran's neck at the top of his spine. "Calm yourself or it won't stop."

Breathe in - one... two... three... Breathe out - three... two... one... In - one... two... three... Out - three... two... one...

Bran does this several times, even after the electric shock stops. His fingertips tap-tap-tap rapidly against the table.

"Very good." Doctor Young continues to stroke Bran's cock.

Before Bran can have a minute to get his bearings, he's arching up off of the table and cumming on his own abdomen. Bran can't believe what's happening right now. Like the guard's dick in his mouth, he's going to pretend that being jerked off didn't happen either.

It's all very sterile and clinical. Doctor Young gets a tissue and cleans Bran up. Bran is in shock, still trying to breathe slow, still tapping his fingers against the metal beneath him.

"Now, if you don't remain calm and controlled, you'll be shocked like that again. I think we both know that too much of that can kill you. It's up to you if you live or die."

Bran glares up at the 'doctor'. Mad scientist is more like it. They put something in him that shocks him if he doesn't stay a certain amount of calm? But Bran has a very, very hard time being calm a lot of the time.

"Fuck you." Bran seethes.

"Oh, no thank you, pet. But I might fuck you later." Doctor Young turns to the guard. "Put him in a cell. He'll need to be monitored for at least a week."

"Yes, Sir."

"Oh fuck that shit. You won't answer my questions but you'll talk to this asshole?" Bran is glaring at the guard.

It's Doctor Young who turns back on him. "Now, pet. We can drug you and get you to your room, or you can cooperate with the guards. Which will it be?"

That one's easy. "No drugs."

"Then I'll unstrap you and you'll allow your guard to restrain you and take you to your room. You won't fight either of us. That's what you're saying?"

Sure. Bran can go with that. "Yep."

Doctor Young un-straps Bran's ankles. The guard brings his automatic around to his front. He doesn't aim, but Bran is familiar with weapons like those. It won't take much. His wrists are un-strapped and Bran sits up.

"Do I get some clothes?"

"No." Doctor Young says. "Pets don't wear clothes in the labs."

"What the hell's a pet?"

"You. You are a pet. Now be a good boy and follow your guard."

There's a moment here where Bran imagines himself commandeering that rifle and shooting his way out of here. The vision is bloody, shooting the guard and slamming the butt of the rifle up into the condescending face of the mad scientist. But when Doctor Young opens the door he sees other guards just outside the door. He counts six.

His guard is behind him, pulling his arms back and binding his wrists with something soft. Bran chooses to let him. Seven against one is just bad odds. Bran is not stupid. Eventually, his time will come.

Patience.

He's fucking naked and he's supposed to walk out of this room without a damn stitch of clothes on. Bran chooses to combat this with sarcasm. "A fucking escort just for me? You shouldn't have."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Walking is a whole new sensation. He feels the movement in his ass and in his dick like he never has before. It's weird as fuck and he wants the itch to stop.

As he's escorted through the main room, it doesn't escape him that this seems to be a very militant operation. There are two guards in front of the guard that had been assigned to the exam room he just left. There are two guards at his back and one at either side of him. In the main room there are people in lab coats that pay him and his nudity little to no mind. That tells Bran that they're accustomed to seeing it. Bran isn't the first and he won't be the last.

There are guards in front of each and every door. He eyes the keypad as numbers are punched in and doors click open. Unfortunately, the number pads also seem to have a print scanner. Bran would bet a million bucks that his thumb won't work on any of them. So even if he knows the number, which he thinks is 6571, the doors won't unlock for him.

That doesn't mean he won't commit that number to memory, just in case. 6571. 6571. 6571.

They go through several hallways until the number and thumb scanner are used once more and the doors open up into a wide hallway. Glass walled rooms line either side of the hallway. Some rooms have people in them, some don't.

A button is pressed outside of one of the empty rooms and the glass slides open. He's expected to go in there. Again, Bran has another mental image of somehow freeing himself, taking one of those rifles and shooting the place up. Not yet.

Bran steps into the room and notices that every other wall is mirrored. He sees himself everywhere. There's a shower in the corner. A commode by the shower. There's a cushioned pallet in the middle of the floor.

The guard who had been with him in the doctor's office steps in, reaches into the shower and turns it on. No instructions, just an expectation for him to step in.

The only reason Bran steps into the shower is because it will feel so good to be clean after all the things that didn't happen in that exam room. The water is warm and comfortable. He lets it wash over him to clean the last few days off of him, and especially the last several hours. When the guard reaches in to turn the water off, he figures that that means to get out. Bran does.

The man walks out of the room and the door slides shut. His guard stands just outside the door with his back to the glass. Bran walks over to the glass and looks out. He looks left. He looks right. There is a single guard in front of the rooms that have people in them. The cell directly across from him is empty. To the left of that, there's a man kneeling on a pallet. To the right there's a man kneeling there and rocking back and forth. Everyone in a cell is naked.

Is he supposed to kneel on his pallet? "Fuck that shit." He mutters.

Bran paces his room, back and forth. He pauses to look all around the mirrored walls for any kind of button that will open the door. He looks up to the ceiling. A red flashing light is in the corner. There's a grated vent that's letting air in. The drain in the shower is tiny. Bran paces some more. 

Eventually, a naked man with a collar around his neck arrives with a tray. He sets the tray down just in front of his pallet. On the tray is a bowl of soup, a bowl of water, a plate with torn up pieces of bread on it. Bran's stomach growls. He's so damn hungry.

No silverware. Bran's hands are still tied behind his back.

"How am I supposed to eat that?" The man is leaving the room. "Hey! How am I...?" Across the way, the man in the cell is on his knees, leaning over to eat the food with just his mouth.

The door to his cell slides shut and his guard has turned to watch him. Bran glares back and continues to pace. He refuses to get on his knees and eat like a dog. "Fuck you." He doesn't know if the man can hear him or not, but he says it anyway. "You hear that? Fuck you."

He turns his back on the man and walks over to the far corner of the room to try to ignore the tempting smell of food. He looks at his own reflection. From head to toe, his left side is littered with scars from the shrapnel of the bomb his unit had encountered. He would say he has at least three days growth on his chin. Maybe more. How long did it actually take to transport him?

Bran's stomach growls again. He's not a small guy, tall and muscled. He needs food. He needs to stop that itch in his ass. He needs his cock to quit being hard. He needs to undo whatever they did to him while he couldn't move. He needs to keep pretending what happened in that other room didn't happen.

He looks down to his ankle to the new tattoo. It's a bar code... a fucking bar code.

Bran reels around and walks back to the glass, shoving his shoulder at the glass in front of his guard. The glass is sturdy. "Hey! What the hell is this, you fucking mute, psychotic son of a bitch? What is this place? Why am I here?" The man is still watching him, quiet and immovable, unshakable. "This is kidnapping! This is fucking messed up, you fucking mute asshole."

Bran glares at the guard. The guard looks back at him patiently.

"At least untie my hands, man. Come on!" There's no response to this either. Bran didn't really expect one.

He walks back to the center of the room, nudges the edge of the tray with his toe. He has to eat. There are worse things than eating with just his mouth. Yeah. Definitely. There are worse fucking things.

Bran kneels on the pallet and leans over to eat at the soup. This is his choice. No one told him to do this. He's doing it because he has to. The world is still sharp and in focus. He can handle this.

The soup is rich and flavorful with chunks of veggies and beef in it. The bread tastes fresh like what his mom used to make, if not a little stale only because Bran let it sit there for so long. The hardest part is lapping at the water but Bran accomplishes it once he figures out how to get the most into his mouth with each lap.

When he's finished, his mouth is a mess and he sits up to kneel on his knees. The door hisses open. The guard gets a cloth from the shower and runs some water over it. He comes over to bran and grabs his chin, cleaning his lips and chin with the cloth.

Bran lets him do it just long enough to feel clean again, but then he pulls his face out of that grip and away from the cloth. "Fuck you, asshole."

The guard puts the cloth back in the shower and then takes the tray out of the cell. The door closes with a hiss.

There's no reason for Bran to be embarrassed that he ate like that, with just his mouth. Somehow, his guard cleaning up his mouth had made it so. Following that, and left alone as he is, Bran's reality is starting to sink in. For his own sanity, he's still going to pretend that what happened in the lab room didn't happen. But there's no denying that he's naked and on his knees and hard as a rock, his ass itching and needy and he's just eaten like a dog.

_What the actual fuck? Breathe, Bran. Come on, breathe._

This one snuck up on him. They do that sometimes, creep up on him before he realizes it's happening. His heart is in his throat, pounding away. His skin hurts from sun and sand. His breath is quick and uneven, each breath draws in the scent of blood and death. He's certain that he sees dead, lifeless eyes looking up at him.

_No one will know I'm missing. No one will look for me. No one gives a shit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck..._

Bran is in a void, alone, and no one gives a shit about him.

The zap is sudden, electricity running up and down his spine so that he shakes uncontrollably and falls over onto his side, trembling again and again. It hurts. His insides are rattling... rattling... rattling...

_It's a good day to die._

He vaguely hears the hiss of the door. His guard is kneeling beside him, petting a hand over his back. It's a strangely soothing gesture.

Bran taps his index finger against his own hand at his back. He breathes in - one... two... three... He breathes out - three... two... one... After doing this a handful of times, the electricity stops. The residual of it still ripples through him though.

He closes his eyes. He's not in the desert. He's in an air conditioned room. No one here is dead. There's no blood.

Tap-tap-tap-tap

Inhale - one... two... three... Exhale - three... two... one...

That hand still pets over his back. Bran grinds out a 'fuck you' even as his body still trembles sporadically. Bran falls asleep like this.

 

* * *

The last few days must have tired him out. Bran sleeps for a long time. He wakes up to a dark room, the hallway lights dim. Another man is standing outside of his room with his back to the glass. A few minutes later, his usual guard is there, swapping places with the strange man. Minutes after that, the lights in his room and in the hallway click on. It's too damn bright again.

Bran just lays there, watching across the hallway as the other captives get up from their pallets and move to the showers. They get into their showers and start washing. One of them is sticking a metal something up his own ass.

The door to Bran's room hisses open. Bran's guard goes to the shower and turns it on. Bran knows he needs to go get into the shower. He also has to pee.

"Good morning to you too, fucktard." Bran awkwardly gets to his feet, as smoothly as a person can when their hands are bound behind them. He gets into the shower and stands under the spray. Surprisingly, his guard removes his own shirt and reaches into the shower to soap up a sponge and wash Bran.

When the sponge gets to his overly sensitive cock, Bran steps backward. The guard doesn't let him hide and the sponge follows him. "Could've taken me out on a date first..." Bran quips.

The guard's jaw flexes as if he has to fight not to smile. The sponge is set down and the guard picks up the metal wand.

Bran's gaze brings him to look across the hallway. The pet is sitting on a toilet now. He shakes his head. "No effin' way. Nope. Not happening."

The wand is put back in it's place on a hook and the guard reaches into a pouch at his waist to pull out a syringe.

That makes Bran shake his head again. "No. No, wait. Wait... no drugs."

The guard arches a brow and points at the wand.

It's an impossible decision. Does he suffer the indignity of having water squirted up his ass and sitting on a toilet or is he drugged and then he meets the same outcome? Bran really needs to be sharp. He needs to keep his own mind and his own choices.

"There are battles worth fighting." This man's accent is thick and heavy as well. "This is not one of them."

It's the first thing the guard has said to him. It's so startling that Bran just stands there under the spray and looks at the man. Finally, he says it again. "No drugs."

The syringe is put back in a pouch. "Would you like to do it or shall I?"

Another choice. None of the choices he's being given are what he wants to do. But he's still getting to choose. If he does it then his hands get untied. Bran puts that together quickly. "I'll do it."

The guard reaches for Bran's restraints and unties them. The wand is picked up again and offered to Bran.

Bran begrudgingly snatches it away from his guard. He's never used one of these before and honestly, he'd like to beat the guard over the head with it. The glass door to the hallway is still open. There are at least a dozen, probably more, armed guards in the hallway in front of the rooms with people in them. He'd have to get past all of them after killing this one.

He looks across the hallway to see the other captive with the metal wand up his ass again. He briefly presses a lever on the wand and water squirts up out of the end.

There are worse things than this. There are definitely worse things. Right?

Bran reaches the wand behind him and presses the tip to his ass. Really, he can't believe he's doing this. Even as he starts to push it inside, he can't believe he's doing it. And holy hell the friction of the intrusion feels so damn good. The act itself and his reaction to it is fucking embarrassing.

"Shit." He mutters. He pulls the wand back out and shakes his head. "I can't."

"You can." The guard says. "But if you wish, I will do it for you."

"No."

"Then you must."

"Or what?"

"Or we will do it my way."

Choices. Bran has to make them now. Like hell is he letting this man, or any other man touch him when he has his hands free. And he's going to try to keep those hands free. He squares his jaw and pushes the wand back inside. He presses the lever and water starts to fill him up.

"Hold it in until you have counted to sixty. Then sit on the toilet and release it. You will do it three times."

"Fuck you. You do this three times." Bran is lashing out in the only way he can right now, with words. He stops the rush of water and pulls the wand out. His insides are cramping like hell. He shoves the wand at his guard's chest. "Sit and spin on it, mother fucker."

This time, the guard lets himself grin. The grin has a devilish look to it. Bran would prefer he didn't grin at all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

After the humiliation of the morning with the wand, Bran is left alone. He paces his room, arms crossed over his chest. The other captives that he can see all kneel on their pallets with their knees spread and their hands behind their backs. Bran is anywhere but his pallet. He leans back against the far wall of mirrors. He walks around the room. He flips off the red flashing camera in the top corner of the room.

When lunch is brought in, his guard stops the boy before he can set the tray down. "You must kneel on your pallet to eat."

"And if I don't you'll have the food sent away, right?" Bran says. "I really wanna kick your ass right now."

"Kneel. Hands behind your back."

"No."

A tap to the boy's shoulder sends the boy away along with Bran's lunch. It takes a lot for Bran to let him go, but he does. His guard doesn't say another word. The glass door hisses closed between them.

Bran has two episodes between lunch and dinner. The first one, his guard comes in again and soothingly pets his hand over Bran's skin. The second one is ignored and Bran gets control of it without anyone's help. Both times he's shocked and electrocuted. It isn't a pleasant feeling.

When dinner comes, Bran refuses to kneel and put his hands behind his back again. The food is taken away. Bran's stomach growls.

Eventually the lights click off. The cell is dark and the outside hallway lights dimmed to a muted yellow. Bran watches as his usual guard is relieved and another man stands outside his cell. All of the guards change shifts.

Bran doesn't sleep on his pallet. He sits in the far corner of the room with his back to the wall and watches the hallway. Eventually, he dozes off.

 

* * *

Bran's eyes snap open with that sixth sense that people have when there's movement around them. Shift change is happening. His guard is back. The man looks at him through the glass and Bran looks back. Then he turns his back on the glass and Bran is left staring at a man who he wants to kill with his bare hands.

He starts imagining the many ways he could kill him. Bran is an expert in hand-to-hand combat. He knows the human body intimately. He knows how to disable a man just by pressing on the right pressure points. He knows how to snap a neck and knock a man out. He knows which arteries to cut to make death come swift and easy.

The lights click on and the captives across the way robotically get up from their pallets to go to the shower. Bran's guard turns to watch him expectantly. Bran just sits there and glares back.

A press to the button outside of the door and the glass slides open. "Shower. Use the wand."

"I wanna know what this place is." There's no answer. "I wanna know why I'm here." Again, no answer. "I wanna know what you plan to do with me." Nothing. "I wanna know why you thought it was okay to stick your dick in my mouth."

The guard smiles that wicked grin again. That grin says 'because I can'. Bran wants to kill him so bad that his skin feels tight with it. His hands clench into tight fists.

"I want clothes." Bran says. "I want clothes and I want you to let me out of here..." Bran hesitates and glances across the way. "...and the others. I'm guessing they were kidnapped too. This is some big operation for what? What's your goal here?"

"Shower. Use the wand."

"No." Bran shakes his head. "Not until you give me some answers."

His guard looks back into the hallways and calls out two words. "Code two." Guards move away from their positions outside the cells and converge outside of Bran's cell. The message is clear: this isn't going to go well for him if he doesn't do what he's told.

Bran stares at the men one by one, then finally pushes to stand up. He rolls his shoulders, his neck. He wants to fight. He wants to knock heads together and slit throats and...

"There are battles worth fighting." His guard says.

And this is not one of them, Bran remembers the rest. He counts heads. Fourteen men of decent size and build stand outside his cell. Bran is not stupid.

He turns on the shower and steps in.

 

* * *

 

Food is brought in at lunchtime. This time his guard comes in and gets the wrist ties out. "I will tie you down and drug you and feed you myself if that is what it takes. Your choice."

His choice. This guy always makes it seem like he has a choice when really there's no choice at all. The outcome is always the same whether they do it Bran's way or his guard's way. His guard's way is more degrading than Bran's.

At the same time, Bran doesn't want to be tied down or drugged. He kneels on the pallet and glares up at his guard. "I'm gonna kill you someday. And it won't be gentle or pretty. I'm gonna enjoy every fucking second of it."

The guard grins wickedly. "Hands."

Bran has to steel himself first. Then he slips his hands behind his back and clasps them there. The tray is set down in front of him. Bran stares at the food. It smells delicious. He wants to pick the bowls up with his hands and drink from them. He knows that that isn't one of his choices. Eat with just his mouth of his own accord or be drugged and fed by his guard.

Finally, he leans over and starts eating at the soup and bread. It's a messy endeavor, once again. He laps at the water when he's done. Once again, his guard wets a cloth and comes over to clean Bran's face. Bran snaps his teeth at the man's fingers.

There's that wicked grin again. Bran wants to punch that grin off of the man's face.

 

* * *

 

For several days it's much of the same. Bran goes through his morning routine. He's getting better with the wand, better at kneeling and clasping his hands behind his back to eat. Otherwise, he's up and pacing and sitting with his back to the far corner of the room so that he has a full view of everything.

A nurse occasionally comes in and checks his vitals. Doctor Young will be pleased that he's healing so nicely, the nurse says. Bran couldn't give two fucks about what Doctor Young thinks.

He averages at least two PTSD episodes a day so far. Bran is trying to pinpoint the initial signs of them. He used to be able to tell when they were coming on. But in this strange environment, with the many unknowns he's currently facing, it's thrown everything off-kilter. They hit him quick and without warning. Each and every time he's forced out of them through a painfully rippled shock coursing through his insides. He has to stop them or die.

By his account, it's exactly seven days later that he's taken back out of his cell with the six guard escort. He's led through hallways and doors that require keypads and thumb scanners to gain entry. Bran notices that the code they punch in is different. 5478. 5478. 5478. How often is the code changed?

They stop at the bottom of a staircase. There's also a staircase going down.

"To go up, you must crawl on all fours. Otherwise you go down." His guard says. "It is your choice."

Another choice. "What's up there and what's down there?"

There's no answer, of course. Bran looks up to the double doors. Going down there are the same double doors. Bran gets the feeling that down isn't a good thing. Of course, he isn't sure that anything here is good. It's an impossible choice. But still, it's once again his choice.

"Look, I don't understand why I'm here. Just tell me. I just need you to fucking tell me why I'm fucking here." Bran hates the way that sounds so much like pleading, but he can't help it. He needs to know.

His guard says nothing.

"Fuck you." Bran shakes his head. "I'm not crawling."

A press to Bran's shoulder guides him downstairs. Bran takes them quickly because he has to. He can't help but feel as if he's made the wrong choice. Would crawling really be so bad? 

One of the guards punches in the code and scans his thumb. The doors click open. They go through a hallway, another door with a keypad by it, and then one more hallway and doors.

On the other side, Bran is handed off to some men who look different than the guards who look like soldiers. These men are more mercenary. They aren't as carefully controlled as the guards he's been with.

"We've got a new one!" One of the men calls out. Several other men appear in the hallway. All of them look Bran's naked body up and down. They look hungry. They look sadistic. They look like Bran should have crawled upstairs.

Bran almost says so, almost turns back to his guard and says that he'll crawl up the stairs. But his guard speaks before Bran does. "I will send you his file so you know what needs to be done."

"Sure thing."

The doors click and lock shut. Bran feels the heavy weight of metal around his wrists as his arms are wrenched back behind him. He starts to fight but it's too late. The man in front of him grabs his chin. "Hello, hole. We're gonna have so much fun using this pretty mouth of yours."

The man behind him squeezes one of his ass cheeks. "This ass ain't bad either." A finger presses to his asshole and Bran tries to wrench free. "Hole's real tight. Gonna have to stretch that out."

"Like fuck you will." Bran slams an elbow back against the man behind him. The hit isn't as hard as it could be if he weren't cuffed and chained, but it's enough to get the asshole's attention.

The man holds his chin bruisingly tight to hold Bran's face still. "Now listen. Down here you're nothing but a hole. We're the brutes who're gonna use you. Sooner you get used to that, sooner you get to go back upstairs."

Fuck. He should have crawled up the stairs.

Bran wrenches his face free and spits in the man's face. It lands on the brute's brow.

The man grins, spits back in Bran's face. It hits his cheek and slides down. The brute's fingers dip into Bran's spit on his own face then slides it onto Bran's other cheek. "You're gonna be a helluva lotta fun. I can tell."

Several of the brutes surround Bran and force him through a metal door into a concrete room. There's nothing but a hose on one wall, a drain in the middle of the floor, and a metal hook in the floor near the drain. Bran is forced to his knees, a heavy metal collar is put around his neck, the chain attached to the hook in the floor. He can't stand up.

"Fuck you. What the hell is this?"

"I told you. You're a hole for us to use. Simple as that."

"Why?"

"Stupid hole. He ain't that bright."

Another one of the men smirks. "We'll know more once we get his file." He leans down to look directly into Bran's eyes. "For now, enjoy your new room. It ain't the Hilton, but we're gonna have a whole lotta fun here."

Bran watches them walk out of the room. The metal door squeals on it's hinges and slams shut with a loud clang. There's only a dim yellowed light in the far corner. The bulb is surrounded by a grate. There's a blinking red light in the other corner.

The room is silent and cold, a concrete cell. Bran feels his breaths picking up speed. They have a slight shudder to them and he shakes his head, closes his eyes and bows his head.

He breathes slowly in and counts the numbers in his mind - one... two... three... He breathes out - three... two... one... Another inhale - one... two... three... And an exhale - three... two... one...

His fingertips tap against the metal of the cuff around his wrist. Tap-tap-tap-tap...

There are worse things than this. Definitely. There has to be something worse than this.

Stuck here in the middle of what's quickly becoming a nightmare, Bran is having a harder and harder time listing those worse things.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Bran is left alone in his misery, with his own thoughts, for a long time. His mind is going a mile a minute. Thinking about the way the men in the hallway had touched him makes it hard to pretend what happened in the lab didn't happen.

A hole. They called him a hole.

Like hell is he a hole. Bran is quick to realize that he needs to do whatever it takes to correct this mistake. He needs to go up the stairs, not down, even if it means crawling up them. Even the thought of crawling turns his stomach. But really, is crawling so bad if it gets him closer to escaping this place? No. He can make small concessions to get closer to freedom.

And what the hell is this place anyway? Deep down, in the back of his mind, he thinks he knows. He's not willing to accept it just yet though, not willing to accept that the unthinkable has happened to him, that he's a fucking Dateline special in the making.

There's a loud clank at the door and then it's pushed open, light from the hallway spilling into the dark, dank room.

A man comes in, what looks like a glock in a holster at his hip, a knife in his hand. He leans a shoulder against the wall, crosses his arms over his chest and studies Bran.

After awhile, Bran can't stand the silence. "Take a fucking picture. It'll last longer."

"Can't say we've ever had someone _choose_ to come downstairs to us before."

"As many people as it looks like you abduct and put into this place? I have a hard time believing that." Bran says. "Especially when the choice between whatever the hell's up there and what's down here isn't clear."

"Oh, the hole's starting to get smart. Too little too late." The man shakes his head. "Don't change the fact that this was your choice. You gotta make better ones. You gotta trust your gut. You can't tell me that your gut told you comin' down here was a good idea."

There's nothing in that statement that's wrong.

The man chuckles. "So you're a war hero. A do-gooder, saved lives. You still a hero, hole?"

"Can't say I'd save your life if you were burning alive." Bran says. "I'd probably laugh. I'd probably smile. Might even take pictures, you know, for posterity's sake."

"Well you're not gonna be the hero of the story for long."

"Fuck you. You're all big and bad with me chained to the damn floor." Bran's chin lifts defiantly. "Unchain me. Let's see what a fucking bad ass you are."

"The Mistress has tried this a few time, tried to make herself the kind of pet she wants you to be." The man smirks and raps the metal of the knife against metal door a few times. Two other men enter the room. "I think this time she might've found the right guy... you know, if you don't wind up dead like the others."

Others? Mistress? What the fuck?

One of the men grabs the back of Bran's neck and shoves him down, face pressed against cool concrete. The other one is kneeling behind him and Bran hears the unbuckling of a belt and the shuffle of clothes.

"No! Fuck." He tries to flail, tries to fight. He's too restrained to do much of anything. His own screams echo in his ears as cock is shoved roughly inside. It hurts so fucking bad. Bran knows pain. He's been in severe pain before and fought through it. This is something he can fight through. He grits his teeth and growls as the man intrudes deeper and deeper inside of him. Holy hell, it hurts.

"He's so tight. Pretty sure he's a fucking virgin."

"Not anymore."

There are worse things than this. There are worse things.

He feels his heart beat in his ears, in his throat, pounding in his head. His breath is short and sharp. Bran has to make himself slow everything down or he'll be electrocuted. He's trying. He's really trying. He caught it too late though.

The electricity ripples through him and everything inside is tight and trembling.

"Fuck! He's like a fucking vibrator. Shit that feels good." The man raping him says.

Breathe in - one... two... three... Out - three... two... one... One... two... three... Three... two... one... And again. Again.

The electric shock stops. He's still being fucked. Everything still feels too tight. But he keeps calm. He breathes slowly even as aftershocks still ripple through him.

Then the most humiliating thing happens. What's painful is also so fucking pleasurable. He feels the heady mix in an onslaught of arousal. The dick inside of him is soothing that incessant itch and Bran's cock is hard and leaking between his thighs.

No-no-no-no-no... "NO! You fucking asshole, get the fuck out of me." Bran tries to kick back, but the man grabs his leg and only spreads Bran apart wider. There's laughter in the room. They're fucking laughing at him.

It doesn't end there. Once the first man is done, they take turns. Bran is raped three times, once by all three men. He's always held down so that his cheek is pressed to concrete. Fighting it is impossible. So by the third time, he just lets it happen.

For three days, as far as Bran can tell, it goes on just like this. Several times throughout the day and night, men come in, hold him down and fuck him. Three times a bowl of watery slop is placed in front of him. The first two times Bran just watches as rats come in and eat the food. He shoos the critters away when they try to get close to him. The third time he's too hungry to ignore it. The slop is tasteless, but it fills his belly. Three times someone comes in and hoses him down.

That makes for three days, right? Maybe.

On the fourth day, Bran is hosed down. The same man with a glock at his hip and a knife in his hand comes into the room. "Hello, Hole. You ready to crawl?"

Two men are with him. They stand guard at the open door.

The question is surprising. Bran's first thought is that to crawl means he'll get out of here and go upstairs. So he nods, succumbing to the inevitable even though it makes him feel nauseated and angry with himself for having to do it. "Yeah. I'll crawl."

"Hear that, boys? Our hole's gonna crawl."

The men at the door come in close to Bran. One of them unlocks one of the cuffs. His hands are brought around to his front and recuffed. The chain between them is enough room for him to use his hands to crawl and not much else. The chain connected to his collar is unlocked at the hook in the floor. That chain is used as a leash.

The end of the leash is handed to the brute leaning against the wall. "Well, come on." He walks, tugging on the chain. Bran grits his teeth, steels himself, and crawls after the man.

They go in circles around his concrete cell three times before he's taken out into the hallway and led all the way down to the end and back. It's degrading and humiliating. There are worse things though. Bran keeps reminding himself of that.

He doesn't get to go upstairs yet. Bran counts four days that this crawling and being led around on a leash is added to his routine. He hates it. But it's getting easier. Each time after they're done parading him around through the hallways, he's chained back to the floor in his cell. Bran curses them every damn time. He's crawling. Why isn't he being taken upstairs?

On the fifth day, after he's been sprayed with the hose, raped by a few men, and led around by his leash, he's led back to his cell to find another man in there. The man is naked, on his knees, shivering. Bran can tell that the man isn't shivering because it's cold.

"What is this?"

"Go suck his cock." The brute holding his leash says.

"What? No. Fuck no!"

One of the other brutes moves over to the man, puts a gun to his head and fires. It's so sudden and loud. Blood, brains, they're scattered over the wall and floor. Bran can't breathe. His heart rate is a quick staccato, and instantly he feels the electrocution.

"No is a bad word, hole. You don't say no anymore."

Bran is dragged by his leash across the concrete floor. He chokes. His body is shaking and shuddering the entire way. The end of the chain leash is locked into the hook on the floor. He's vaguely aware of being left alone, the loud clang of the door shutting.

Today is a good day to die.

_Breathe, Bran... breathe. Fucking breathe!_

He whispers and mouths the numbers. "One... two... three... three... two... one..." Then he starts actually breathing with the numbers in his mind. Slowly. Excruciatingly slow. Finally. He breathes. His index finger tap-tap-taps against the concrete floor.

Across the floor, Bran sees the dead man with a portion of his skull blown off. He smells blood. Soon he'll smell death. His body stops shaking save for the shadowed echo of electrical currents that race through him. Bran lays there and breathes slowly, staring at the man he'd killed with one, single word.

_No is a bad word, hole. You don't say no anymore._

 

* * *

 

Bran is left like this for a long time. He doesn't sleep. He doesn't close his eyes. He just looks at the dead body on the floor several feet away from him. He keeps breathing slow and calm. It's a concerted effort to stay calm. Everything inside of him wants to lash out and lose his shit. Too much more electric shock too soon and his body will be fried. He has to stay calm.

He hears the skittering of the rats that usually come after his meal. They're after another kind of meal now. They're all over the dead man and Bran screams at them so that they momentarily scatter. Bran gets up to his knees and waves his arms, rattles the chains. Eventually the rats realize that he can't reach that far. They dine on the body of the man.

Who is that man? How long has he been here? Does he have a family that misses him? Why was he shaking so much?

_What have I done?_

No. Bran didn't fire that gun. This is not Bran's fault. Is it? Things are starting to get confusing on a level that Bran isn't sure he can deal with.

It's a long time before the door to his cell is opened again. Bran's cell smells like death by this point. The rats scatter as light pours in. A tarp is brought in. The dead body is wrapped in the tarp and carried out. Another man turns on the hose and sprays the floor. Blood and brain bits slide down the drain by Bran's knees.

Breathe in - one... two... three... Breathe out - three... two... one...

Then the hose is turned on him and he's sprayed down. Bran is in so much shock that he forgets to glare at any of these men. He doesn't even protest when he's bent over and fucked a handful of times by a handful of different men.

His chain is unlocked and he's led out into the hallway to crawl after one of the brutes. It's on the second lap of the long hallway that Bran finds his voice again.

"You fucking killed that man."

"No, _you_ killed that man. Lesson learned, right, Hole? We're gonna show you what kind of hero you are now."

Back in his cell, there's another man on his knees, hands restrained behind his back. The man looks confused and frightened. "What's happening? What is this?"

Bran has asked those same questions. He answers them the best he can. "This is Hell."

He feels the nudge of a boot to his ass. He knows they want him to suck this guy's cock. Still, he hesitates. One of the brutes lifts a gun and points it at the man. Bran smells death and blood. He sees blood and brains slide down the drain.

_Breathe._

"No, wait! Wait!" Bran crawls forward and looks up at the man. Choices. He has to make this choice. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry." He says. Then he dips his head and takes the man's cock into his mouth.

The other captive starts to scramble back. "What are you doing? No. Stop."

"Come on, hole." There's another press of boot to Bran's ass. "You have to take it. Make him give it to you."

They want him to suck this guy off while he's trying to get away from him? This is some messed up shit. He's thinking the word 'no' again and again. Every time he thinks it, the image of the dead body on the floor in a pool of blood, rats feeding on it, floods his mind in vivid technicolor.

_Breathe._

The chains connecting the cuffs at Bran's wrists clink together as Bran uses his hands to grab thighs and push them open. Then he takes cock into his mouth again. It feels weird. It tastes strange.

The other hole is screaming for help, still scrambling to get away. Bran tells him he's sorry, grabs his hips and pulls him off balance so that the man falls back onto his bound arms. After that, it's just about holding him down to the floor at his hips. Bran's own body keeps the man's legs spread. Bran sucks on his cock as best he can, which is not very well. He's never sucked cock before. The other hole has gone very still and Bran has no idea what that means.

When he tastes cum, he chokes on it, coughs and spits it out.

"Now lick it up, hole."

Bran looks over to the gun in the brute's hand, over to the man he'd just basically raped, then he shakes his head and leans down to lick the cum off the floor and swallow it down bit by bit.

There are worse things. Or maybe there aren't worse things. He'd just saved this man's life by raping him. What kind of a hero does that make him now?

He doesn't know.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, kneeling on the floor next to the other hole. "I'm sorry."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Bran counts five more of what counts for days down here that he comes back from his crawl through the halls of what he's learned is the 'Catacombs', and finds a man kneeling in his cell. All of them seem oblivious to what's going on. Three of them fight him. Bran wins. One of them zones out and lets it happen. One cries as Bran does as he's told and fucks his ass hard and fast.

The brute always has a glock in his hand, ready at a moment's notice. Bran always rapes these men to keep the walls of his cell blood and brain free.

On the sixth day Bran is sprayed down, fucked a few times, then the chain is unhooked from the floor and used as a leash to lead him through the hallways. He curses at the one doing the leading when he goes a little too fast for Bran to keep up. That earns him a kick to his side that hurts so fucking bad that he isn't sure a rib isn't cracked or broken.

He isn't led back to his cell this time. He's led to what looks like a communal room. There are old couches spread around the exterior of the room, some frayed rugs that have seen better days, a small kitchenette and a TV hoisted up on one wall. There's baseball on the TV right now.

Brutes are lounging about. Bran knows each one of their faces at this point. They've all raped him at some point in the last few weeks. In the middle of the room a naked woman kneels, hands clasped behind her back. She's crying. She's looking pleadingly at Bran and shaking her head.

Bran lifts up from his hands and sits back on his heels, shaking his head. No. No, he is not doing anything to this woman. He looks up to the brute with his chain leash in his hand and shakes his head. "Don't make me. I can't. I can't fucking do it."

"Is that a no?" The brute asks. He looks around the room at the other men. "What do you think, boys? Does that sound like a no to you?"

They all jovially agree that it sounds like a no. One of the men draws his gun and strides over to the woman. The barrel of the gun is put to her head and she sobs, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I didn't say no!" Bran yells. "I didn't say no!"

"Better get to it then, hole."

The gun is still to the woman's head. Bran knows that the longer he hesitates the closer that gun comes to being fired. Or maybe it's just a bluff. Maybe somehow, for some reason, that first man had been expendable to them. Surely everyone isn't expendable. If they're in the business of selling people, like Bran suspects, then everyone can't be expendable. Maybe he's being played right now.

Can he risk calling their bluff? The woman's tears look real. Bran doesn't want to be a monster.

"Go fuck her ass. You can do it, hole. Make sure it hurts her too."

Bran hears himself whisper the word no. It's immediately followed by a gunshot. The woman crumbles to the floor.

_Holy shit. Breathe. Breathe. One, two three, three two one... Breathe._

Bran feels tears sting his eyes and quickly blinks them away. The room is a flurry of noise and motion, but Bran feels alone, like everything is in slow motion. He is the eye of a hurricane, still and calm and might as well be on another fucking planet than all the Brutes in this room.

Another woman, naked with her hands bound as well is brought out to the middle of the room and forced to kneel next to the dead woman. She looks around the room with red, puffy eyes. Frightened eyes land on Bran.

"Please help me." She whispers.

"Go fuck her ass and make it hurt." The brute drops his chain and nudges Bran's thigh with his boot. "Go on, hole."

The woman shakes her head. "No."

_Breathe._

Bran pushes forward, crawling over to the woman. She starts shifting away from him, almost crab walking backward away from him. Bran grabs her ankle with one hand. His whole hand can hold her ankle she's so small. And she's no match for his strength. He pulls her in and flips her over. She's crying and clawing at the floor to try to get away.

Right next to them is the dead body of the woman who's only just been shot in the head. No is a bad word. Make it hurt. When Bran mounts, holds her down by the back of the neck and forces his way into her tight, dry hole, she cries out loudly. Then she starts crying. Bran feels bits and pieces of him that have been so close to shattering falling apart right then.

For this audience of Brutes, he makes it hurt, no mercy, fucking deeper and deeper in quick, sharp thrusts. The woman beneath him is reduced to soft sobs. She's quit fighting him so he lets go of her neck, lifts her hips a bit and plows into her even harder.

"The Mistress's rabid dog, boys." One of the Brutes behind him says. "If that there ain't a work of fucking art, I don't know what is."

"We should get paid more."

Bran spills inside of her and pulls out, letting her body rest back to the floor. Her body is still wracking with sobs. Bran is trying to stay calm, trying not to cry, trying to figure out how to get the hell out of this nightmare. He is not this man. He is not the kind of man who rapes people. He is not the man he's been for the last week.

He looks at the woman's dead body next to the woman who's sobbing, the woman he just raped. He knows that he didn't pull the trigger, but he feels so damn guilty. He feels guilty for this entire week. If only the gun had been pointed at him instead.

It's a good day to die.

"Now eat your cum out of her ass. Bite her ass all over. I wanna see blood."

Bran leans down and bites down on one of her ass cheeks, hard enough to break skin and draw blood. His tongue slides over her asshole, lapping and sucking out his own cum.

Are there worse things than this? He isn't sure anymore.

 

* * *

 

Bran is kneeling in his cell, the chain of his collar locked in to the floor so that he can't stand. His head is bowed and he's staring at the heavy metal cuffs around his wrists connected by a length of chain. His hands have been in front of him since he's started crawling. He wants his hands behind himself so he can't look at them and see blood on them. There's been blood on them since he went overseas. Now the blood is fresh.

Why is there always blood on his hands?

He hates what he's been doing here. Saving people. Raping people. Saving them for what? So they can be raped again and again? He wants to control himself. He wants to go up the stairs. Whatever is up there has to be better than this.

It's been two weeks by his count since that woman was murdered in front of him. He doesn't know anything about her except that he dared to call their bluff and she was murdered because of it. Bran hasn't called their bluff since.

He's railed against them verbally, taunted, cursed them as they rape him every day, as they lead him around on a leash, as people, men and women are put in front of him, and the Brute's demands become more and more violent. He follows their orders. His hands bruise and choke. His teeth bite. His fingernails scratch, he fucks and sucks and rapes. He draws blood. He leaves bruises.

He's a monster. But no one else has died in front of him because he's trying not to be a monster.

The door clanks and creaks open. Light pours into his room. Bran glares up at the man standing in the doorway. His fingers curl into fists. Bran has never thought of himself as a monster. He's never thought of himself as a murderer. Now he thinks of himself as both.

The Brute enters the room and doesn't unlock the chain, but he unlocks the heavy collar from around his neck. Bran has forgotten how much it weighted him down after wearing it for a length of time. His neck feels strange without it.

"Crawl after me."

Bran is kind of pissed at himself for crawling after the Brute without a leash and collar on. He does it anyway. He's led down the hallway to the same double doors he'd been brought through weeks ago. Is he going upstairs? He has to consciously work to keep his breathing calm. A code is punched in, thumb scanned, then the doors click open.

His guard from the labs is on the other side along with six other guards. Bran never thought he'd be glad to see that asshole. His guard grins wickedly down at him. Bran glares up at him from where he's on all fours on the floor.

"Fuck you and fuck that fucking grin." Bran says to him. It feels good to say it. Bran might be glad to see the guy but he still wants to kill him slowly.

His guard responds by getting something out of his pocket, leaning down to clasp the black leather collar around Bran's neck. It's light-weight compared to the metal one that has just been taken off. A black leash is connected to the collar. His guard holds the other end of that leash.

"You watch the video?" The Brute asks.

His guard nods. "I have. You have done good work."

Good work? Fuck that shit. They turned Bran into a fucking monster. Also, damn if Bran didn't miss that heavy accent. At least now he thinks he's going in the right direction.

The Brute smirks. "Tell the Mistress we want a raise."

Again, his guard nods and then the doors are shut and the guard leans down to look at Bran. "Are you ready to go upstairs?"

"Yeah."

"You will start calling me 'Sir' when you address me."

Bran's face feels hot with anger. But he once again steels himself because he has to get away from the Brutes and the Catacombs. "Yes, fucking Sir." He says.

His guard grins and they start up the stairs. It's slower going because Bran has never climbed stairs on all fours. There's flight after flight of them. Finally they level out and Bran is led through several hallways and locked doors. He's taken to a wing that has carpet on the floors. Blessed carpet. There are doors off to either side with beautifully furnished bedrooms in them. His guard leads him to one room. There are two other men in there.

"This is Bran." His guard says. "We are to train him as I told you. He will belong to the Mistress if all goes as planned."

His guard addresses him then. "Bran, I am Yani. These men are Stephen and Malcolm. We are your Masters until you are told otherwise."

"Masters?" Bran makes sure to glare at each of them. Then he sits back on his heels and flips the two new men off with both hands. "I guess we won't be sitting around a fucking campfire singing kumbaya."

Both men smirk at him. One of them actually laughs. Malcolm looks up to Yani. "Ground rules haven't been set yet, huh?"

"Not yet." Yani leads Bran in close to a bed where there's a pallet on the floor next to it. He points to it and Bran crawls onto the pallet. He kneels there, hands on his thighs. "You need to understand that it is to our discretion whether or not you will be sent back to the Catacombs."

The very idea of being sent back there is a horrifying thing to Bran. He can't live a life where he's that man, raping people every day just to keep the blood off of his own hands. The irony here is that it didn't keep the blood from his hands. He's still soaked in it. He still raped those people.

Bran's head space is a mess.

"That means you follow our rules to the letter." Malcolm says. "Rule number one: You only speak when given permission. Otherwise, you're our pet dog. You bark. You whine. You crawl around on all fours and beg for things."

Okay. Is this better than the Catacombs? Yes. Bran would rather be a dog than a rapist.

"Try not to piss on the floor." Stephen grins. "Bark if you understand."

Bark. Bran is supposed to bark like a fucking dog. There is no end to his humiliation. It takes several moments for him to work up to it, but eventually he barks. It's a pitiful excuse for a bark.

Yani grabs his chin to get his attention. "I want you to bark at me with the same passion you hurl curse words at me with." His guard lets go of his chin and nods at Bran to try it again.

Bran really does try. He really would rather be a dog than a monster. And he isn't sure what all of his boundaries here are and how far he can push them without being sent back downstairs. He just feels silly and embarrassed. It's as pitiful a bark as the last one.

"You will learn to commit yourself to the role." Yani says. "Your food and water dish are right there at your discretion."

Bran hadn't even noticed them. Beside his pallet are two bowls, one with what looks like dog food in it, one with water. The bowls are red and black. On the side of them his name is on a plaque: 'Bran' beside a picture of a dog bone.

It's then that he notices his collar has a tag on it, a tag in the shape of a dog bone. He reaches up to smooth his fingers over the smooth surface. Something is etched into the front and Bran would be willing to bet it's his name.

"If you have questions or need to tell us something you can whine at us. We might give you permission to speak."

Bran has a million questions. But he refuses to whine just yet. He looks down to his hands. There's still blood there. Maybe no one else can see it, but he can see it clear as day. When he looks back up, it's to glare at the far wall. Fuck these men. Fuck the catacombs. Fuck everything.

There are worse things than being a dog.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

It's the middle of the night and Bran feels a tug at his leash. He's glad to be woken up. His dream world had been more nightmare-ish than not. Yani pats the side of his bed and whispers. "Up here, Bran. Up here."

Choices. Once again Bran has to make one. Go up into the bed with Yani to do who knows what or ignore the other man and risk going back to the Catacombs. Bran makes the choice to go up into the bed with Yani. His guard tells him to lick his face. Bran hesitates only briefly before complying. He licks up one side of Yani's face in one long line.

Yani stops him. "Small licks, pup. Like a dog." Bran rolls his eyes and licks Yani's face with small flicks of his tongue from one side to the other.

When he gets to Yani's lips, his guard whispers to him. "It should always hurt, Bran. You are a rabid dog, like a pit bull. You will bite just as surely as you will lick. Try it again."

Bran slides his tongue against Yani's skin again, small licks over each inch of his face. At Yani's lips, Bran's teeth catch his skin. He hears one of the Brute's in the back of his mind telling him to make it hurt and draw blood. He bites hard enough to draw blood.

Yani inhales sharply. For a brief moment Bran thinks he might have done something wrong. But then Yani whispers the words 'yes, good dog'. "Now lick away the blood. Always lick it better when it is your Master's."

Doing as instructed, Bran tastes Yani's blood.

"Do you know what rabid dogs are good at, Bran?" Yani's hand cups the side of Bran's face, his finger curl and uncurl against Bran's skin as if he were actually scratching at his ears like one would a dog. The touch actually feels good.

Bran shakes his head.

"Rabid dogs are good at pleasing their masters. But they also attack. Everything is pain. You hurt people. You don't like other Masters. You fight other dogs. You leave your mark and your draw blood. You win your fights. Then you go back to your Master and be their good dog. You cause pain, Bran. You hurt people."

Making sense of that isn't easy. Bran sighs and shakes his head again. He doesn't like the idea of hurting people without a purpose. He doesn't like the idea that that's what he's good at. He feels guilty... so damn guilty.

"You like to fight, do you not? You like to win."

Is it bad that fighting used to be the only thing he was good at out there in the real world? Before all this bullshit here? Is that the same thing as making everything painful? Bran nods. Yes, he likes to fight. He likes to win.

"You must keep that fight in you. You must think like a dog and keep that fight. Everyone but your Master is your enemy."

Think like a dog? That's bullshit. The fighting part, Bran's got that down to a science. Bran smirks, trying to play off the dark thunderstorm of thoughts in his mind as if it's nothing, as if he doesn't care. He cares. He's still reeling from the Catacombs enough for Yani's words to take root inside of him.

He starts to climb out of the bed. Yani stops him. "You may please me, Bran. If you are good, I will let you sleep up here in the bed with me."

_Oh, goody._

Bran watches as Yani pulls aside the sheets. His guard is naked, his cock shadowed and outlined in the dimly lit room. Yani is hard. Bran knows what's expected of him. It still turns his stomach. At least, he thinks, this time his mouth is wanted. At least Bran himself is wanted. He's surprised to actually find solace in that fact.

He is not the monster from the catacombs. Bran's attention is wanted.

Even now, after all those weeks in the Catacombs, Bran feels absolutely awkward with cock in his mouth. He's not good at this. He kind of hopes he's never good at it. Unfortunately Yani begins to give him pointers and Bran follows them.

"Use your tongue, Bran." Yani instructs, his fingertips gently resting at the hollow of Bran's cheeks. "There you go. Open your mouth wider. That is very good. Now, for you, I want your teeth to barely scrape over skin. Just like that. Good dog."

Bran takes all of this instruction and does as he's told. It pisses him off that he's trying to do it well. A part of him wants to bite down hard draw blood, let Yani get so pissed off that he shoots Bran dead. Maybe that's how the others died.

Today is a good day to die.

His thoughts are all over the place even as he sucks Yani's cock. His chained hands have slid up Yani's chest even as his mouth works him toward release. His hands are around Yani's throat in the same way the Brutes had instructed Bran to choke one of the men he'd raped. Bran's fingers press hard against the right places to restrict airflow.

Yani lets him continue for awhile like this until he puts a hand around Bran's wrist and pulls. "Bran, let go now."

_Fuck you. Fuck you, you fucking asshole._

Bran's fingers press harder. Yani presses a hand to Bran's brow to bring his head up, his mouth off of his cock, and baps his nose hard. It's so startlingly absurd that Bran releases his hold on Yani's neck.

Yani coughs.

Bran sneezes.

Bran is sure that he's about to be sent back to the Catacombs and that thought makes panic swell inside of him. The result is swift and harsh, his body vibrating with a shockwave as he rests down on top of Yani. Yani's hands pet at his mess of hair, pet at his shoulders, his back, over his arms.

"Shhhh Bran. Calm yourself."

As Bran counts slowly in his mind, he inhales and exhales slowly. His index finger taps rapidly against Yani's chest. The electrical current subsides.

"That's a good pet."

Good pet? No way. He'd just tried to suffocate his guard.

Yani's hand continues to pet over Bran's face and hair. "I know what you're thinking. But you did well. You are a rabid dog, Bran. You always bite. You always bring pain with you. You always fight. Your Mistress is going to want you to fight. You are the alpha dog in all ways except to your Master, unless you have permission to play alpha for them."

"I wanna go home." Bran whispers.

"You were homeless, an afterthought to everyone, if that. Here, your life will have meaning again. This is your home now."

He hates that his guard is right about his life before here. "Fuck you."

Yani once again baps Bran on the nose. "And you do not have permission to speak. You may bark or whine."

Bran does neither of those. The sound he emits is more like a growl. Yani seems pleased by that.

 

* * *

 

Yani lets Bran sleep at the foot of his bed up on the mattress with him on top of the sheets just as a dog would. By morning Yani's neck has deep purple bruising around it. Bran is instructed to get down on his pallet. Bran's stomach growls and he looks at the dog food.

While Yani showers, Malcolm is there. He sits down on the floor and brings the bowl of food closer to Bran's pallet. "A hand at either side of the bowl, palm down. Your legs should be bent up underneath you. Go ahead and try it, pet."

The monster in the catacombs is still too fresh for Bran to argue with him. He doesn't look pleased about it, but he does as Malcolm says. Hands to either side of the bowl, he leans down and smells of the food. It smells like kibble.

"Here you go." Malcolm gathers up a few pieces of kibble and holds his palm out.

Bran knows he's supposed to eat the food from his hand, but it still takes him a bit. First of all, he doesn't much care for eating out of a stranger's palm. Secondly, it's dog food. Eventually Bran dips his head and uses tongue and teeth to get the kibble from Malcolm's hand. He adds a slight scratch of his teeth to Malcolm's fingertips. Yani had told him to bite. The nip gets a grin from Malcolm The kibble is dry, tasteless and crunchy.

"Good dog. See? Not so bad." Malcolm says, petting a hand back through Bran's curls. "Now finish your breakfast. If you're good today I might feed you from my plate later. Would you like that?"

There's no question as to what Bran's response should be. It's just the making himself do it that's a problem. It's still awkward. He still feels silly. But he barks again. As with last time, it's a pitiful excuse for a bark.

"Good boy."

Malcolm leaves him be and Bran slowly works through getting the kibble down. He has to pause a few times to lap at the water in his bowl and get the dryness out of his mouth and throat.

When the food bowl is clean, Malcolm picks up his leash and leads him into the bathroom where Yani is drying off with a towel.

"He ate his breakfast."

"Good boy." Yani says to Bran.

In the bathroom, Malcolm unlocks the cuffs from Bran's wrists and tells him to get into the tub on all fours. These assholes are going to wash him? It's on the tip of his tongue to tell them he can wash himself, but he ends up getting inside anyway. He's still trying not to do anything to go back to the catacombs.

They soap him down and wash him. Malcolm holds a sponge that he slides over Bran's body. Yani brings a toothbrush over to the tub and instructs Bran to bare his teeth. As Bran does this, something metal is shoved up his ass and his entire body jerks away. Both men pet him, Malcolm pets his back and Yani pets his head.

"Stay still, puppy dog. Now give me your teeth and give Malcolm your ass."

Bran lets Yani brush his teeth while Malcolm fills him up with water. When Bran is told to spit the toothpaste out, he notices that the drain here is large. Both men pet him while he holds the water inside and counts to sixty, just as Yani had instructed him to in the labs. Then he releases it and they do it twice more. Malcolm's fingers are in his ass, adding lubricant there. Then he gets a plug and pushes it in until that tight ring of muscles stretches and then closes around the base.

Bran is sprayed down and told to get out.

"What would a wet dog do, Bran?" Yani asks. "You need to think like a dog."

When Bran was a kid his mom had a golden retriever named Rex. Bran used to call him T-Rex. That dog loved water. He'd even play in his water bowl if given half a chance. Bran squares his jaw and shakes his entire body from head to toe.

"Good dog."

Yani takes his leash and Bran is led back to his pallet. He tries to linger by the toilet so that one or both men will know he needs to pee. But they don't get the hint. Or maybe they choose to ignore him. Bran kneels on his pallet while Malcolm showers and Yani dresses.

Stephen enters the room and shows Bran a bag. "I've got some presents for you, puppy dog." The man sits down in front of him and takes things out of the bag one by one. "Some tennis balls. We can go outside and play catch later. And..." He pulls out a rubber bone and a stuffed alligator. When he squeezes the alligator, it squeaks.

"Try it." Stephen tosses the alligator at Bran.

Well, this is humiliating. There's no way around it. Bran has fought wars and brought men down to their knees. Now, he leans down and takes the alligator in his mouth, searching for the squeaker. He finds it eventually and his skin feels flushed with heat when he hears it.

"Good dog." Stephen says, scratching at Bran's ears. "I bet these toys will be torn to shreds by the end of the week. Don't worry, I'll get you more when you've ripped them up."

For awhile Bran is left alone. He doesn't drink water from the freshly filled bowl. He doesn't chew on his toys or do much of anything. He doesn't even think about the plug in his ass. Honestly, he's trying so hard not to think about how much he has to piss. Yani and Stephen are in the room with him. Malcolm has taken a shift somewhere else. Bran bores holes into them hoping they'll get that he has to pee.

It's hours later when he isn't sure he can hold it much longer that he remembers that he's supposed to think like a dog. There really is no end to this embarrassment. But he'd be even more embarrassed if he pissed himself.

Bran crawls across the floor to where Yani is sitting and barks, looking up to him.

This seems to please his guard. Yani's hand pushes through his mess of hair. "What is it, pup?"

He's not supposed to speak without permission. Bran barks again. Yani just watches him expectantly.

_Fucking hell._

This time Bran crawls over to the bathroom door and looks back. He whines. He hates whining. Yani smiles. So does Stephen.

Yani grabs Bran's leash and hooks it to his collar. He pulls and Bran goes with him to the door that leads back into the hallway. "This is the door you want."

They go down the long hallway. Stephen has grabbed a firearm and is walking behind Bran and Yani. A code is punched and a thumb is scanned. The door opens to the outside. The fresh air is a shock to Bran. He breathes it in even as he's led out into the grass. It only occurs to him belatedly that they want him to pee out here like a dog would.

The area is fenced in with a wooden fence. There are flower beds, beautifully maintained, and a fountain. A few benches are scattered about.

Yani leans down and unhooks Bran's leash. "Think like a dog, Bran. An Alpha dog. A rabid dog. The more you do this, the further away from the Catacombs you get."

Bran doesn't think much about those words right now. Right now he really just needs to piss. How does a dog piss? Bran goes over to a bush, takes a deep breath and steels himself, then hikes his leg and pees. It's such a relief.

When he's done, Stephen whistles at him to get his attention. Stephen holds up a tennis ball and waggles his brows. He throws it. Bran knows he's supposed to go get it but he hesitates because he really doesn't want to go get it.

_Think like a fucking dog, Bran. Stay out of the shit storm in the Catacombs._

Bran goes to get the ball. He picks it up in his mouth and lifts himself up on the balls of his feet to run quickly back to Stephen. He fights Stephen a bit when the man tries to get the ball out of his mouth, biting down hard on the tennis ball. Inevitably, he lets him have it.

The ball is thrown again. Bran fetches it and brings it back, fights handing it over and then eventually relinquishing it. They play like this for awhile. Sometimes Stephen throws the ball. Sometimes Yani does.

Eventually the door beeps and clicks open. Another guard comes out with a man on a leash, crawling into the grass.

"What are you, Bran?" Yani asks.

_Alpha dog. Rabid dog. Think like a dog. Fight._

Bran growls and barks. It's surprising to him how much more convincing this bark sounds. It isn't a pitiful attempt at barking. It's actual barking. Bran hadn't thought he was capable of that.

The other 'dog' looks up.

"Go get him." Stephen whispers.

_Damn it. Stay out of the Catacombs._

Bran gets up to his toes again and charges at the other dog. The man cowers behind his guard and still Bran races at him, growling and barking. He gets in the other dog's face and growls and barks. The other man rolls over onto his back, submitting.

A finger hooks in Bran's collar at the back of his neck and pulls Bran back. His leash is snapped on. Bran is pulled away from the other dog. He fights it just a bit for show, but eventually barks one last time and follows his Masters back inside.

In the hallway, Yani and Stephen are both smiling wickedly. Bran doesn't like their smiles. There's something wrong and twisted about them.

"That was very good, Bran, except you did not draw blood. You did not fight." Yani says.

Stephen pats a hand at Bran's head. "Next time, you'll fight. Next time there'll be blood."

_Fuck._


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Several days go by. Bran loses count and quits keeping track. Being a dog is taking up a lot of energy and thought if just for the simple fact that it doesn't come naturally to Bran. He keeps having to think about what a dog would do in certain situations. Yani, Stephen and Malcolm gently prod him to make the right decisions. So far, Bran thinks he's done fairly well.

He has his morning routine down well enough. Bran lets his guards wash him, fill him up with water and clean him out, put a plug in his ass and brush his teeth. When he needs to pee he goes to the door that leads into the hallway and whines. He eats his dog food. Sometimes his Masters feed him food from their plates.

After it's been suggested several times, Bran starts ripping through the plush alligator with his teeth, slowly pulling out the stitching and getting to the stuffing inside. The plastic bone has teeth marks in it from Bran's chewing on it.

When he's told to suck his Master's cock, any of them, he does so as Yani had instructed him, with the slightest hint of teeth, an edge of danger to it. His Masters have bite marks on their thighs, bruises on their throats and cut lips from Bran's teeth.

Everything is pain. That's what Bran does.

He hasn't seen another dog in the yard again. They go out there a couple of times a day and Bran chases the ball. Sometimes his Masters sit on a bench and Bran lounges in the grass at their feet. His gaze always slides over to the fence, looking at the height, wondering how easy it would be to scale, how quickly he could get over it.

Bran has gone at least four days without a panic attack. It's a record. His mind is preoccupied with being a dog and doing all the things a dog would. Somehow, that eases his anxiety.

Night time is the worst. While laying on his pallet he has time to think, time for his mind to wander. He finds himself hoping that one of his Masters will call him into their bed.

He thinks about the death surrounding him, innocent civilians overseas, the people in the Catacombs. He dreams about being in the fights, surrounded by people screaming for him to kick ass and win. Only Bran is naked with a collar around his neck that has a dog bone shaped nameplate on it. He ends up raping his opponents. They try to get away from him. They cry. They claw at the floor. Bran doesn't let them get away.

He wakes up in a cold sweat and tries to slow his breathing down before things get out of hand.

_Stay calm, Bran. Stay calm._

Breathe in - one... two... three... Breathe out - three... two... one...

His index finger taps rapidly against his abdomen. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

Bran is a dog. Bran is not a monster. Bran has to stay calm. Bran has to get the fuck out of here.

A whistle sounds across the room. The pat of a hand against the mattress. It's Stephen. Bran rolls over and crawls across the dark room to Stephen's bed. The sheets are pulled back and the mattress patted again. Bran crawls up onto the bed with his Master.

"Fuck me, Bran." Stephen whispers. "Make it hurt."

Bran flashes back to the Catacombs when he was always told to make it hurt. He blinks and shakes his head. Stephen rolls onto his stomach. He has to remind himself that this is wanted. It isn't rape.

_Get your head straight, Bran. Stay out of the Catacombs. Be a dog._

On top of Stephen, Bran slides the length of his cock between the rounds of Stephen's ass. He leans down and his teeth clamp down at the back of his Master's neck until he knows he's broken skin. He licks the blood away.

Stephen whispers his praise. "Good dog."

Bran flicks his tongue down Stephen's spine. Hands grab Stephens ass cheeks and pull them apart. He's sure to dig his nails in so that the skin will be scratched even as his tongue licks at that tight hole. He's learned that getting inside is easier with this. Without lube, it'll still hurt. His own saliva will help him get in.

He makes sure to bite at the flesh of one of Stephen's ass cheeks and shake his head with the skin held between his teeth. He bites at the back of his thighs. He licks each new wound. He licks his Master's asshole one more time, then he gets up on his knees and pushes inside. Bran doesn't try to go slow. Stephen muffles a cry into his pillow. Bran pushes inside harder, faster, angrier.

If he had been asked even a month ago if he would be fucking another man like this, he would have said no fucking way. Now, he doesn't think twice about it. He's fucked Yani like this. He's fucked Malcolm like this. Those men in the Catacombs... he did that too even though they didn't want him to. Bran will take being wanted like this any day over forcing himself on someone.

Deep, deep down, it feels nice to be wanted, in spite of how fucked up he is. After his deployment, he's felt so unwanted. Now... now he's wanted. Now he likes being wanted. And maybe that's the most fucked up thing of all.

Fucking Stephen feels so damn good, especially once his own pre starts to smooth the way in that tight, dry canal. Bran isn't gentle about it. His hands on Stephen's hips are gripped tight, bruisingly so. Still, Stephen arches his back and lifts his hips, pushing back against Bran's cock. Bran is the alpha dog. He spills his seed into Stephen just as he has in Malcolm and Yani.

The tight spring inside of him uncoils and he breathes. He breathes because he has to. He breathes to keep calm. To keep his heart rate at a certain level and nothing more. He's slowly mastering the art of this, of reaching orgasm without setting off whatever is in the back of his neck.

He pulls out of Stephen and the other man rolls over, legs spread. Tiny licks up Stephen's thigh. Bites that either bruise or break skin, then Bran is once again taking cock into his mouth. It still feels a little awkward, but not as much so as before. His Masters have taught him well.

Once he's brought his Master pleasure, Stephen's fingers hold onto his collar, keeping him in place. Bran rests his cheek against Stephen's stomach. He nestles into the mattress between his legs. Eventually, he falls asleep with his Master's fingers petting through his hair.

 

* * *

 

Bran still has his alligator in his mouth when Yani is taking him outside again a few days later. One end of the alligator has stuffing pouring out of it. Bran hasn't gotten the squeaker out of it yet, as much as he's tried. Eventually, he'll get it.

Yani grins and takes the alligator from him, tossing the torn stuffed creature back over to the floor by Bran's pallet. "That stays in here, Bran. You know that. It's an inside toy."

Bran barks. He's getting better at responding to his Masters in the way a dog would. He rubs his head against Yani's leg. Yani pets at his ears and then, holding the leash, brings Bran outside.

The leash is taken off and Bran is free to roam the yard. He crawls over the grass closer and closer to the fence, sniffing the grass, looking back at where Yani is sitting on a bench. Malcolm has come out to join him. Once Bran gets to the fence, he sniffs at it under the guise of peeking through the wooden slats.

There's mountains. There's forests. There are no buildings.

_What the fuck? Where the hell am I?_

After hiking a leg to pee, Bran saves a little in his bladder and continues to walk the perimeter of the fence, sniffing at flowers and grass and wood as he goes to appease his Masters. Each time he peeks through the slats he sees nothing else. There are no other buildings. He's in the middle of nowhere.

A part of him dips lower at that knowledge, deeper into the abyss of this current predicament. How can he escape if there's nowhere to escape to?

He hears a whistle and he looks over to his Masters. Malcolm has a tennis ball. Bran sighs and starts prancing toward his Masters. The door leading inside beeps and opens. A guard steps outside with another dog.

Bran glances at Yani. Yani arches an expectant brow.

_Next time, you'll fight. Next time there'll be blood._

After taking a deep, calming breath, Bran growls and barks, racing off toward the other dog. The man looks startled and backs up.

_Think of it like being in the fights. He's your opponent, Bran. Win._

Bran is on the other dog in a matter of seconds, pouncing, snarling biting, clawing. He expects the other man to fight back, but he doesn't. The dog rolls over and submits. Bran is on top of him, glaring down at him, willing him to fight back. There's no point to this if he isn't fighting back, right?

This dog's guard does nothing to stop Bran. Bran looks up to his guards who have come closer.

"Take him, Bran. Show him who is the alpha dog." Yani says.

Malcolm rests a hand on top of the firearm at his hip. His hand is rested there so casually. But it's a reminder of the Catacombs. The message is clear: if Bran doesn't fuck this man, the gun will be used, and not on Bran.

Bran feels so damn stupid. All of the concessions he's made since leaving the Catacombs toward thinking like a dog and being a dog, and here he is at rape again. Is it rape? Bran looks down at the man beneath him. He doesn't look frightened of Bran so much as he looks worried about doing the wrong thing. The man is scared of his guard, not of Bran. He doesn't look like he'll fight. He's just submitting.

This other dog is not an Alpha. Bran is the Alpha.

The man lifts both legs up, bending himself in half. He yips at Bran. Bran's eyes narrow and he growls at the other dog. It's the slightest of movements, but the man nods at him, eyes pleading with him to get it over with, to do the right thing so that neither of them have to suffer the consequences.

_Make it hurt. Everything is pain._

"Fuck." Bran mouths the word. Maybe this isn't exactly like it was in the Catacombs, it still doesn't feel completely right either. It's somewhere in between rape and being wanted. This guy is definitely scared of some kind of repercussions if things don't go a certain way.

Bran is much bigger than this guy. He has more muscles which equates more strength. That makes it easy for him to flip this guy over and hold him down. He bites at skin, leaving red angry marks and drawing blood. He leaves claw marks on his ass as he licks. Then he pushes into him. The other dog whines loudly. Bran growls, fucking into him hard and fast. No build up, just with the intent of getting this over with.

He does just that. He breathes. He fucks. He gets it over with. His spill is still dripping from his cock when he's pulling out. Beneath him, the other dog is a bruised and bloody mess.

Yani dips down to whisper in Bran's ear. "Now finish it like a dog would. Piss on him."

_What?_

Bran glares up at his guard. Malcolm's finger taps lightly over the gun at his hip. It would be such an innocuous thing if Bran hasn't experienced the Catacombs. Should he call that bluff? No. The last time he'd called someone's bluff, someone had died. This man, this other dog, has been through enough today, he thinks. Then again, what kind of life here is Bran saving him for?

In the end, he shifts so that he can hike a leg up and piss all over the other dog's ass. It feels like adding insult to injury. It feels like overkill. He does it anyway. Then he crawls over to Yani and stares at the other dog.

"Good dog." Yani pets at Bran's hair.

The other guard pulls on the leash of the man Bran has just fucked and pissed on. The other dog gets up on all fours and hides behind his Master.

"Bran."

Bran looks at Malcolm just as he throws the tennis ball. Like nothing has just happened, Bran gets up on his toes and runs after the ball to pick it up with his mouth. As the other dog is being led back inside, Bran brings the ball back to Malcolm.

"Good dog."

 

* * *

 

Several times after that, for the next few weeks, another dog is brought out into the yard. Each time, Bran bows up to them, tackles them, fucks them, pees on them. He's keen enough to realize that they're starting to fight back. Bran always wins. Bran fights to win. Bran knows the ins and outs of disabling a person.

The fights are getting more and more difficult though. Still, Bran can't be beat. Yet.

Bran finds himself looking forward to the fights. He has to focus on maintaining a certain level of calm while fighting, and that gives him more focus than the blind rage he'd fought with before on the streets. Bran is learning where that line is, how far he can push it before the device in his neck shocks him into oblivion.

Each time he's in that yard, Bran peeks between a different area of the slats. He never sees anything but forest and mountain.

One morning, after Yani and Stephen have bathed him, brushed his teeth and cleaned his insides out, they take Bran out to the yard so that he can piss. They don't stay out there as they usually do. Bran is led by leash back to their room. Malcolm waits there with a bag that he hands to Yani.

The three men escort Bran through a series of hallways, four different doors with keypads and thumb scanners outside of them. Bran is just starting to understand the massive size of this place. They wind up in what looks like a large foyer with a black and white checkered floor.

Yani leans down to look Bran in the eyes. "You are about to have a new Master. You will serve her well. You will be her rabid dog. Bark if you understand."

Bran barks.

Maybe he's going somewhere that he can find other people who aren't crazy-ass kidnappers. It's wishful thinking, of course. Bran is led up a large opulent stairwell and down another hallway. He's led into a bedroom. The bedroom is all white and black, perfectly and professionally decorated.

Sitting at a vanity in an open bathroom, a woman sits straight-ironing her hair. Bran is supposed to bark at other people. He barks.

The woman twists and looks back at him with a slow grin curling on her lips. "Oh, he is perfect."

Bran growls at her.

"This is your Mistress."

She stands, wearing a pencil skirt and blouse, hose but no shoes. The woman walks over to him and holds a hand out, palm up. She's beautiful, with dark eyes and hair, olive skin.

_What would a dog do?_

Bran sniffs her hand, flicks his tongue out over it, nips her fingertips with his teeth.

She grins even more. "Bran. I had a feeling you were the one. I promise to be a good dog owner if you will be a good dog. I will take care of you. Will you be a good dog for me?"

Bran wants to tell the bitch to go fuck herself. Instead, he barks.

The Mistress pets her hand back over his hair. "Will you fight for me?"

Bran barks again. Yes, he'll fight for her. Fighting is what he does best. Maybe fighting is even the only thing he's good at.

"That is a very good dog. Now, you will stay up here with me. I want you to have time to adore me, Bran."

His pallet from downstairs is placed at the foot of her bed. His food and water bowls are filled and put beside his pallet. Bran kneels on his pallet as she finishes getting ready. Yani sets his half destroyed alligator and plastic bone by his pallet.

"If you chew on one of these now, it will delight her, Bran." Yani whispers.

Bran inwardly rolls his eyes, then hunkers down and starts trying to work the squeaker out of the alligator with his teeth again.

The first time the squeaker sounds, the Mistress looks out to see Bran holding the stuffed toy down with his hands and chewing on it. She laughs. "Oh, he is wonderful! I love him already." She looks at Yani. "Really Yani, you have done excellent work."

Excellent work? Everything Bran has been put through is excellent work? Fuck that shit. Fuck Yani and Malcolm and Stephen. Fuck the Catacombs and the Brutes. Fuck Jesus wherever the fuck he is. And most of all, fuck the Mistress.

All of these thoughts don't seem quite so harsh when punctuated by another squeaking sound. Fuck this damn squeaker too.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

For the first two days Bran is with the Mistress every minute of every day. Nothing out of the ordinary happens. All he has to do is keep up the dog act and stick with her.

In these two days, Bran hears the Mistress's side of conversations over the phone or one-on-one with other people in person. He learns that this place is called the Art Gallery and that this is one leg of the operation, an operation that extends world wide. He learns that the Mistress is the head of this limb of the massive Gallery. He learns that she's been putting together a harem for herself, a pet of every sexual flavor a person could imagine.

On the third day, he meets one of those pets. Bran is kneeling on the floor by the Mistress's feet in a room that looks like a bigger version of a parlor. The room is gold embellished. Windows that go from floor to ceiling line one wall. Bran sees forest. Bran sees mountain. There are no other buildings.

A side door opens and guards enter the space. In the middle of all the guards is a man with very dark skin and a shaved head.

"Ah, come here, Jai. Meet my new puppy dog." The Mistress's nails drag through Bran's curls. "This is Bran. Bran, this is my most favored pet, Jai. You are to always follow his instruction as if it were my own."

"He is lovely, Mistress. Will he be in your harem?"

"He will. After he has time to know who his Mistress is." She says. "I want my dog to be loyal and true as any good dog should be. Say hello to Jai, Bran."

Bran growls and barks. The Mistress is pleased with this, it seems. She laughs.

"As you know, Jai, I have a gathering later this week. You will be in a frame with Bran. Make sure he learns what he is to do. Make sure he is a good dog."

"Your will be done, Mistress."

"Come kiss your Mistress, Jai."

Jai complies, coming close and leaning down to kiss the Mistress. She whispers something against his lips, then Jai is kneeling before Bran. He leans in close to Bran.

Bran reacts the way he's been trained to react. He growls. This time he even snaps his teeth. Jai jerks backward. Then he comes back in quickly and his lips are against Bran's. Bran kisses Jai too. Bran bites Jai's bottom lip so hard that he breaks skin and tastes blood. Jai jerks back again, his fingertips swiping blood away from his lips.

The Mistress laughs again and leans in to gently grip Jai's chin. Her thumb slides over his bottom lip. "Oh he got you, did he? I am afraid my dog is a bit rabid. You are okay, aren't you pet?"

"Yes, Mistress." Jai says, looking adoringly at his Mistress. "I am pleased with his wildness if it pleases you."

"It pleases me, Jai. His wildness pleases me very much." The Mistress says. "As does your obedience in all things. I love you, pet."

"I love you too, Mistress."

 

* * *

 

That night, Bran is on his pallet while the Mistress gets undressed in her closet. He's still pulling at stuffing out of one end of the alligator toy with his teeth. It's stitched in at some places, which makes it more of a difficult task.

Yani stands just outside the door with another guard. Yani is always close by. Bran hates that he finds comfort in that one familiarity. He needs Yani close. He also wants to snap Yani's neck, grab his gun and shoot as many of the assholes here as he can on his way out the door.

Wishful thinking. There are too many of them and only one of him.

The Mistress is naked when she exits her closet. Bran tries not to look because it seems rude to stare. At the same time, it's hard not to notice how beautiful she is. She isn't tiny like many of the starved models in magazines. She's got curves, the kind of curves that Bran would have looked at more than once in the world before this place.

"Look at me, pet."

Bran's gaze slides up to look at her, to _really_ look. Yes, she's gorgeous. Every curve, every beauty mark, every single inch of her, she's gorgeous. If only her insides were as beautiful as the outsides. Those eyes, also beautiful, are calculating and cruel as well.

"Do you like what you see?"

The question seems rhetorical. It's pretty obvious he likes what he sees. Bran barks his approval anyway.

"I give you permission to speak." She says. "Do you like what you see?"

The question takes a backseat because the second Bran is given permission to speak, he has no idea what to say. He hasn't been allowed to speak in quite awhile. Everything, every feeling, every thought, all of it has been internalized for some time.

"Yeah." He says.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Mistress?"

"Is that a question?"

"Uhm..." He dips his head and exhales a heavy breath. "Fuck."

"Fuck what?"

"Fuck you." Bran glares up to her. Ah ha, there's his voice. "Do you know what the fuck they did to me in the Catacombs? You were in charge of that. Those people. They shot them in the fucking head, you fucking crazy bitch!"

The Mistress only grins at him. The silence is maddening. So Bran continues to rant.

"I was fucking drugged and kidnapped. I was raped. They made me..." He trips over calling himself a rapist. He is not that monster. "And then you try to turn me into a god damn dog? What the actual fuck? This is wrong. All of it is wrong."

Still, she's silent. She stands naked in front of him, so damn comfortable in her own skin while Bran is a fucking mess.

"You're messing with my head!"

"You mean you were not already a mess when you arrived here?"

"No, I was..." Bran shakes his head, hating that she's right about him already being a mess before this place. "That's not the fucking point! Didn't your mom teach you that kidnapping is wrong? Didn't anyone teach you that rape is wrong?"

"My wild, rabid dog." She steps forward and pets her hand back through his curls, down the side of his face, beneath his chin to cant his head back so that he's looking up at her. "Everything here has a purpose, a means to an end, my desire, my plan. You are my mess now."

Her hand slides to the back of his head and pulls him in. Once he realizes where he's pulling her into, he tries to fight it. "Wait."

"No. You are done speaking, my pet. You are my dog." Bran's face is pressed to the wiry curls at the apex of her thighs. "Breathe in. Learn my scent, Bran."

Bran breathes in. She smells sweet, like flowers or something. The Mistress holds him there. Bran gets the unspoken instruction pretty quickly. His time with Yani has taught him to read cues and act accordingly.

His tongue flicks out over heated flesh. Then he bites, scraping teeth over skin and the Mistress laughs. "There you go, my pet. I love feeling your bite. None of the other pets in my harem would dare. But you, you are different. You are special, Bran."

Special? Bran has never been special to anyone before. He's just cussed the woman out and called her a crazy bitch, and she's pulling him in close to her crotch and calling him special. Bran is so fucking confused.

She crawls onto bed from the foot and Bran gets a full view of her ass. It's a very nice ass. She really has no shame. Bran is starting to have less and less shame himself the longer he's here.

She looks at him expectantly and he isn't sure what's expected of him. He isn't sure what will keep him out of the Catacombs.

"What would an alpha dog do, Bran?" The Mistress prompts him. She's kneeling on the large mattress as well. "He would take what he wants."

So now he's supposed to want her? Take what he's supposed to want? Bran just glares at her.

Her chin lifts a bit. "Come at me, Bran."

Oh. Bran thinks he understands now. He steels himself and then crawls up onto the bed. The closer he gets to her, the further away she shifts from him. Okay. He thinks he understands this game. Bran leaps at her. She moves quickly away, off of the bed. Bran gets down on the floor and wolfs at her. She grins and shifts out of his reach when he goes to grab her. Quickly, Bran twists around to grab her ankle.

When she tumbles to the carpeted floor Bran lets go and shuffles backward on his hands and knees. Holy shit, what has he done? How far is he supposed to go with this crazy game?

Bran dips his head and whines. It's pure instinct to do this when he's in dog-mode. Especially now that he thinks he's about to be sent back to the Catacombs.

"Oh, my puppy dog, no." The Mistress sits up, holds a hand out, palm up and waggles her fingers. "Come here."

Bran crawls toward her until both of her hands are holding his face, bringing his eyes back up to her. "You did nothing wrong. You said you would fight for me. I expect you to do just that in all things. I will always tell you if you go too far. You will heed my first warning at all times. Never, ever, will I repeat myself. Do you understand, Bran?"

Her fingers pet at his ears as she speaks. Bran barks. Maybe he understands. Maybe this whole thing is confusing as shit. But he isn't going to the Catacombs. He can deal with most anything as long as he isn't going back there.

The Mistress lays back and spreads her legs. She is unlike any woman Bran has ever known. Not just the crazy bits of her. She says what she means and she means what she says. She is who she is and she doesn't try to be any different than that. She's comfortable with who she is.

Bran knows what she wants him to do. He crawls in and sniffs at her pussy like a dog. His tongue flicks over her thigh and bites down hard, then licks the wound to soothe it. Then his tongue finds other things to lick. It slides between her folds, tasting the warm wet of his Mistress. He has to remind himself that this is wanted, that _he's_ wanted.

Her fingers curl in his hair and pull. "Fuck it, Bran. Fuck your Mistress."

There's a part of Bran that wants to say no. It's only a small part. The Mistress is gorgeous. She wants him. He's wanted and almost every other part of him is screaming YES. He hates that he's so turned on right now. His cock is hard and his ass is itching for the plug inside to move.

His reaction to her surprises him. He doesn't much care for it. He wishes he were something different, someone better. He wishes he were the hero of the story, not the victim of it.

Fuck wishing. Fuck the Mistress.

Literally.

He fucks her so damn hard, with such wild abandon, fueled by shame and anger and lust and guilt. He fucks her so hard that her back and his knees slide over the carpet beneath them. Bran can feel the burn on his skin. He fucks her and it feels good. He hates that it feels good.

The Mistress grabs one of his wrists and his shoulder. She turns him over so that it's his back to the carpet. She straddles him and easily slips his cock inside of her. Her hands hold his wrists down to the floor at his sides. Everything about her is an enticing mixture of delicious and sultry. Everything about her says 'I own you and there is nothing you can do about it'.

Bran looses any ounce of control he'd still had in this moment. She's in his head, in his body, pulling all the strings and a part of him likes it. His body is reacting to it as he bucks up and spills inside of her. Tight muscles clench around his cock. His growl mixes with her cooed words of 'my rabid dog, my Bran'.

When she rolls off of him, Bran is left staring at the ceiling, fighting for breath and hating himself so damn much. In a moment of defiance, he whispers the words 'fuck you, lady'.

The Mistress laughs, rolling on the carpet beside Bran to rest her head on Bran's shoulder. "Yes, and it was sexy as hell, was it not?"

Yes, it was sexy as fucking hell. Bran can't win for losing.

 

* * *

 

Settling into his roll as the Mistress's dog is easy after that. Being a dog is easier than the alternative. He's with the Mistress all day and all night for the next several days. He growls and barks at strangers. When Yani takes him out to do his business he fights other dogs, fucks them, pisses on them and revels in his triumph. He is the alpha dog in all things, except with his Mistress.

The night comes when they're supposed to go to a gathering. The Mistress gives him a new black leather collar with spikes on it, a silver diamond-shaped tag with the name 'Bran' on it. It's attached to a black leather leash with silver diamond studs over the length of it.

She looks beautiful in a floor length slinky black dress and heels as she leads him by his leash through the hallways. They enter a large room with a banquet table in the center of it. There are large shadowbox frames on the walls. Several naked people are already there.

Bran looks them over. They all seem to be vying for attention from his Mistress. Bran's gaze lingers on a man with breasts and a cock. He tries not to stare, but...

The man grins and winks at him and that's enough to get him to look away.

She addresses all of them. "Hello, my pets. This is a new addition to our family. His name is Bran. He is your Mistress's rabid dog. You will all care for him as I do. All of you, with the exception of Jai, will submit to him in all things." She holds the leash out to Jai who steps forward to take it. Then she kisses Jai and proceeds to give each pet some attention.

A man in a purple suit with glasses that look like goggles and a long handlebar mustache comes over to Jai. "Is this the new pet?"

"Yes, Sir." Jai nods.

"And he is to be in a frame with you tonight, per your Mistress's instructions."

"Yes, Sir."

"Both of you, with me."

Holding onto Bran's leash, Jai leads him over to one of the picture frames. Some small steps are placed down to help them get up into the framed shadowbox. Bran is just starting to realize that they're supposed to be the artwork for tonight's guests.

"Fuck my life." He whispers.

Jai leans down to gently grip at Bran's chin. "The Artist will position us as he wishes. We are to hold that position all night. We must be good to please our Mistress. We must not move until we are told to move. Do you understand, Bran?"

Bran barks.

Jai and the Artist smile at him anew. Apparently his bark is amusing. That pisses him off. He growls.

"Enough of that, pup." The Artist says. "Now, I want you on your knees facing this wall, hands clasped behind your back. This front knee just a little bit behind the other to give us a nice profile of that big, hard cock of yours."

Bran turns to face away from Jai, to look at one of the side walls of the shadowbox. The Artist proceeds to position Jai behind him with his shoulders leaning against the opposite wall, one leg up and a foot between Bran's shoulder blades pushing him forward while holding his leash taut. If Bran moves forward too much, the collar will choke him. If he moves backward, Jai will push at his shoulder blades and choke him.

"One more thing." The Artist says. "This."

Bran learns what 'this' is when one of the Artist's assistants climbs up into the shadowbox to clasp a ball gag at the back of his head. Bran's mouth is pried open.

"Now that is perfection." The Artists's appreciation of his own work is short-lived. He shouts, "Next!" and moves on.

When the Mistress comes by to admire the Artist's work, she reaches up to pet at one of Bran's feet. "I trust him to you, Jai. Take good care of my rabid dog."

"I will, Mistress." Jai says.

The evening moves along like any normal dinner party might. There are cocktails, a five-course meal, dessert and more drinks.

Bran is so fucking embarrassed each and every time someone comes to stand in front of the picture frame to look up at him. He holds as still as he can, willing them to move on. They never move on as quickly as he'd like.

He and Jai have to stand there as someone has sex while everyone watches. Bran is too overwhelmed by the entire ordeal to really pay attention to what's happening outside of this frame. It's safer right here with Jai than it is outside of the shadowbox.

There's only one time when Bran has to make himself count and tap his finger to calm himself down. Someone reaches up into the box to touch him and Bran has to fight like hell to keep from grabbing that hand and snapping fingers back. Otherwise, he and Jai just stand together like this uninterrupted.

There are worse things than being posed in a picture frame for an entire evening. There are always worse things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sightsoblind](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sightsoblind/pseuds/sightsoblind) wrote some fan fic of my fan fic! It's right over here at [Leap of Faith](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7152365/chapters/16238987). I'll still be writing Dare's and Lily's stories from my own brain space, of course. But this is fun too! Go have a look see.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

By the end of the next week, Bran has had sex with his bat-shit crazy Mistress too many times to count. She's good at sex. Apparently he's good at sex too. He finds himself looking forward to sex with her. He finds himself watching her when he thinks she isn't paying attention to him. She's always paying attention to him, he's learned. He kind of likes having her attention. She makes it seem like her attention is something special, something he should covet - and maybe he does.

All of this doesn't change the fact that she's bat-shit crazy. Somehow, in this hidden world cloistered away from a world outside of it, right is wrong and wrong is right.

Another week passes of this upside-down universe. And another. The Mistress keeps him with her through Winter and into Spring.

Bran is a dog. Bran is his Mistress's dog. Bran is rabid to everyone but his Mistress. Bran fucks his Mistress. Bran fucks other dogs after beating them into submission.

The cleaning staff steer clear of him. Guards shift uneasily when he bares and snaps his teeth at them. All other dogs he encounters cower from him, submit. He is the alpha dog. Bran is okay with that most of the time. Sometimes, when he has time to really think about it, he still wants to grab one of the automatics from the guards and shoot his way out.

He's posed in a framed shadowbox several times for her and her guests in this time. A few times, she keeps him on his collar and leash at her feet for the entire evening. He'd rather be in a shadowbox though. When he isn't, he has a front-row seat to the proceedings. He can see all the other pets frozen in pornographic positions for hours on end. Were they kidnapped and raped, forced to do despicable things, broken like he was?

This is wrong. All of it is wrong. But here wrong is right.

Bran is on the Mistress's private airplane. She's taken him and Jai with her on a trip. The plane is ridiculously lavish inside. Jai kneels on a pallet with his knees spread and his hands clasped behind his back. He looks down to the floor. Bran is on his own pallet, chewing on his alligator. The Mistress likes it when he plays with his toys. It always makes her smile.

He has no idea where they're going. He knows that neither Jai nor he are given any clothes to wear. They have to walk and crawl naked to vehicles and to the plane.

Yani has come with them as one of the Mistress's guards. He also stays close to Bran.

The plane ride isn't too long. He and Jai are naked once again as they go to another vehicle from the plane. Bran does what a dog would do, he tries to sit up in the seat with his Mistress on all fours. She laughs and scolds him. Jai sits up with her and Bran is put down on the floor.

Bran tries to look up out of the window. It's his first time out of the Mistress's home. His curiosity is great and he can't help but try to look. His Mistress takes this as another mimic of his being a dog. She lets him up in Jai's lap and rolls the window down. Bran is told to put his head outside of the window. He does so.

It would be humiliating as they ride through a bustling city if not for the fact that Bran's mind is more stimulated in this moment than it has been in some time. While he's on all fours over Jai's lap with his head out of the window, she plays with the plug in his ass. If the stimulation of the city could have taken him out of his predicament, the push, pull and twist of the plug in his ass shuts that door, reminds him of what he is; his Mistress's rabid dog.

They drive out into the country and Bran closes his eyes and puts his face to the wind. It feels good. He can see why dogs like this. It feels like he's flying, like nothing can touch him, like he's free.

Eventually, they pull up a drive to a massive mansion hidden by forested trees just as Bran suspects the Mistress's house to be. He spots other people getting out of vehicles. They have dogs. Human dogs, like him.

Bran barks loudly and makes to get out of the window so that he can show them who the alpha is, so that he can please his Mistress. Some of the dogs bark back, pull on leashes. It only makes Bran bark louder, try harder to get to them.

Jai has his collar, pulling him back into the car and the window is rolled up. He's told to get back into the floor

The Mistress tells him to sit in the floor and he does. Her hand caresses his chin and brings his gaze up to her. "You are going to make me so proud, aren't you Bran?"

Bran barks, licks at her palm. He whines and looks at the window in the direction of the other dogs.

She smiles wickedly. "You will be the alpha dog I have trained you to be."

Again, Bran barks. Yes, he will be the alpha dog. He whines and tries to look out of the window again to see the other dogs.

The Mistress pulls on his leash to bring him back to her. She seems so pleased with his antics. "Yani will take you to our rooms while Jai and I go to greet our host."

Outside of the car, Yani is waiting for him. Bran barks over at another dog on a leash. The dog snarls and barks back. Bran pulls on his leash. Yani keeps him in line and takes him into the house, up some stairs, down a long hallway to a luxurious suite.

Bran's pallet is brought in and he goes to it. Food and water bowls are laid out. Bran starts to eat and drink.

When he's cleaned his bowl of all the dog food, Yani sits down in front of him. "Bran. You must do very well for the Mistress this weekend. You must make her proud. You must fight and win."

Bran arches one confused brow.

"There will be fights here. You are expected to win for your Mistress."

What? Dog fights? Human dog fights. Well, fuck.

"These dogs think they are alphas. You must show them the truth of the matter. Who is the alpha, Bran?"

Bran barks.

"You will bite, scratch, and fight your way to a win. Then you will fuck your opponent. You will piss on him. You will be the alpha dog and win the Mistress a lot of money. No one will bet on a newcomer like you. She has wanted a dog to put in these fights for some time. You will win. You will not let down or displease your Mistress."

Yani gets up then, leaving Bran alone on that note.

Bran is going to have to fight. He's going to have to fight dogs who think they're alphas. What the actual fuck? Why didn't he scream for help when his head was out of the window of the car in the city? Why didn't he run when there were so few people between the vehicle and the plane, the plane and the vehicle?

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

That night, Bran is led downstairs by Yani. He's put into a cage in a room with a few dozen other cages with dogs in them. Yani leans down and tells him to put on a good show. Be the Alpha dog. Bran glares at Yani.

And for the next few hours, as people file through the room to look at the dogs, Bran barks and growls and tries to tear through bars to get to the other dogs. He glares and growls at the people as they walk by to look at him. He bares his teeth.

They all watch him with amusement and a few jot down the number on his cage.

Betting. These people are going to be placing bets. Bran sits back on his heels and thinks about that for a moment. His Mistress will bet on him. His Mistress will want him to win.

What will happen if he loses?

 

* * *

 

That night while Jai sleeps with his Mistress, Bran is allowed to lay on the mattress at their feet at the foot of the bed. He doesn't sleep. His mind is going over combat moves he's studied for much of his life. Bran knows he can fight. The question is how well the other dogs have been trained.

He's barely dozed off by the time it's morning and his Mistress is getting up. If his Mistress is awake, then Bran is awake.

Bran bounds off the bed and follows her into the bathroom, licking at the backs of her shins.

She laughs. "Always so happy to see me. That's my good dog."

He lounges on the floor as she starts getting ready for the day. Once she's done, Yani comes into the room and grooms Bran as he always does. Bran's hair has gotten longer, down to his shoulders. The longer it gets, the straighter it is with the ends flipped out.

When he's brought out into the main room, he's told to lay on his pallet while Yani cleans Jai for the Mistress.

His Mistress comes over to him and pets a hand through his hair. "I want you to kill today if you have to to win. Do whatever it takes, my pet. Do you understand? I want to win."

Bran barks.

He will not kill today. But... he will win. Bran is Alpha.

 

* * *

 

The first two rounds are easy for Bran. Well, they're easy in the vein of him getting the upper-hand, dominating and winning. He fights. He holds them down and fucks them into submission. Then he pisses on them and prances off.

Aside from the fucking and pissing, it's not unlike the underground fighting he used to do outside of this world. People scream and applaud and make bets.

The trick for Bran is keeping his heart rate at a certain level and maintaining that so that the device in his neck doesn't trigger. It keeps him focused. He is not a wild thing. He's a fighter. He's an Alpha dog. He wins.

After each fight, Yani takes him into another room to clean him up and get ready for the next fight. His opponents are getting more and more difficult, as they should with each disqualifying round.

By the third round, Bran is having to use more skill than strength and brawn. Bran isn't a small man. He's built well enough. He's strong. But he's not so big that he can't be quick when he wants or needs to.

The other dog has strength. He's bigger than Bran, but not as quick. Bran can dodge most of his heavy hits. A few of them land and make him a bit dizzy. Knocking his feet out from underneath him takes some quick maneuvering. Most of the crowd has bet on the other man because of his size. Bran can tell by the tenor of the yelling when the larger dog falls.

Bran is on top of him in an instant. Biting hard at the back of his neck and drawing blood. He pulls the plug out of the dog's ass and pushes his cock in, starts rutting into him again and again.

The crowd, no matter who they've bet on, always seems to enjoy this part.

Bran pulls out even while cum is still dripping from his cock. He hikes a leg and pisses on the man. Then pads off toward his Mistress and licks her palm as he does after every fight. Yani takes him away to care for him as two more dogs enter the arena to fight.

"This next fight will be the last, Bran." Yani says, putting antibiotic cream over Bran's wounds and cleaning him up. "You have done very well. You must win."

He barks.

Yani cares for his wounds, holds a glass of water to his lips for Bran to drink, then they wait. The sounds of the fight in the other room is so loud it makes the room tremble. Bran can't believe this many people know about these fights and none of them thinks it's wrong. No one has said anything to the authorities. They get some sick, perverse pleasure from it.

Fuck these people. They bet against him because he's new? They're about to lose a whole heck of a lot of money.

The other fight ends and one of the dogs is dragged off the floor while the other goes to find his Master. There's a break for the winner to rest before the final match. Drinks and hors d'oeuvres are served.

Bran is in his head psyching himself up this whole time. He watches the other dog with his Master. The other dog watches him. One of them will win this thing. The other dog is huge. His teeth are altered into sharp points. His bites will hurt.

Pain is something that Bran is familiar with. He can handle pain. He can also cause pain. Now the things Yani and his Mistress have been saying to him make sense. He is pain, in both the giving and the receiving of it. It's a sad truth.

The bell for the fight sounds. Yani unleashes Bran's collar and Bran goes into the ring. The other dog comes in to. Bran growls and wolfs. So does the other dog as they circle one another on all fours.

The other dog leaps at Bran first. Bran slips out of the way and rears up on his knees to spin and slam an elbow into the back of his head. It's followed by a fist to the dog's shoulder. That gets him a backhanded fist to his jaw that rattles his brain.

Bran is pushed down to the ground and teeth dig into his shoulder. Holy fuck that hurts. Bran's fist slams into the side of the man's head.

They scrapple for awhile, each fighting for the upper-hand. They each land a few hits. They each bite one another. They're both bloody and bruised. The crowd loves it.

It's only when Bran is pinned down, the man's forearm pressed to his jugular to stop his air flow, that overdrive survival instinct kicks in. Bran isn't sure how it happens from here on out. It's like something else takes over and he isn't in the driver's seat.

Bran's fingertips push against a pressure point that forces the other dog to release him. Then he gets up to his knees, blood runs into his eyes, and there's a sickening snap of bone. The other dog falls to the floor and Bran is pulling the plug out of his ass and pushing his cock inside.

He fucks him hard and quick.

When he pulls out, he realizes that the man isn't moving, not even to breathe. The crowd is yelling so loud. Bran pushes against the man to get him to wake up and move. The dog doesn't wake up and move.

There's the click of something at his neck and Bran feels a tug. Yani is pulling on Bran's leash. Bran goes with Yani, looking back at the lifeless body on the floor. People reach out to touch, pet, caress and congratulate him as he's pulled through the crowd.

"Good dog."

"Good fight, dog."

"Such a rabid beast."

Bran is pain. Pain is Bran.

_What have I done?_

Yani brings Bran to a side room and starts cleaning up fresh wounds. "You won, pet. You won. You did very good."

Very good? Killing a man is very good?

His heartbeat ricochets up to alarming levels. The world is buzzing. No, that's Bran that's buzzing. His entire body is a trembling mass of pain. He passes out onto the floor, the electrocution is so intense and he's too lost to count or breathe or tap his finger to stop it.

Today is a good day to die.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Bran doesn't die. There's a part of him that's upset about that. He wakes up on his side on his pallet in the room his Mistress is using for the weekend. In front of his face is the half ripped up stuffed alligator. Bran's head tilts just a bit so that he can take some of the material between his teeth.

He is one fucked up man to find comfort in a stuffed dog toy.

Maybe that's why he has yet to work the squeaker out of it. When he does that it'll probably be taken away. He'll be given something new. He wants this alligator.

Bran killed a man today. He's not the hero of the story. He's not necessarily a victim anymore either. He's something other. He's his Mistress's rabid dog. He's a murderer.

Tears slip out of the corners of his eyes. He worries the material of the alligator between his teeth. Bran hasn't cried since his kidnapping. Now, he cries. He cries for the people shot in the head because he said no. He cries for all the dogs he's dominated and fucked and pissed on, all the people he's raped . He cries for the man he killed today. He cries for himself.

When there are no more tears, he steels himself up. No more of that. Ever, ever again. Bran is not a crier. Mostly.

He rolls onto his front, folds his legs beneath him, holds the alligator with his hands and chews on it.

This is how the Mistress finds him when she comes into the room later with Jai at her heels. Jai kneels on his pallet. She aww's at him and smiles. As always, her smiles look mischievous and cunning.

The Mistress sits on the foot of the bed and calls Bran over.

Bran wishes she would leave him be. He reluctantly leaves his alligator behind and crawls over to her. She guides him to rest his head in her lap.

"I want you to know that I'm very proud of my rabid dog." She pets her hand through his hair, fingers combing through the strands. "You are the talk of this entire gathering. Such a good dog. My winner."

She continues to pet him for awhile. Bran lets her because it feels good. He can imagine that she actually feels sad with him for all the things Bran is sad for. He knows she cares about him in her own twisted way. And maybe, in his own fucked up way, he cares about her too. But she's a part of this atrocity. She isn't sad that anyone lost their lives. She doesn't care about innocent people being broken and messed with to the point of being a part of the atrocity themselves.

Bran is a part of this.

After awhile Yani is brought in to groom Bran. Bran lets Yani wash him, brush his teeth, clean his insides out, lube and plug him up. This time, Yani pulls Bran's hair up to the top of his head, putting what bits of it that will reach into pig tails atop his head. Bran hates the sprays of hair pointing upward. His Mistress loves it.

His leash is attached to his collar and she leads him and Jai down to a banquet area. Yani and another guard follow behind them. The moment they enter the room all eyes are on them. Bran is bruised and battered, still sad and hollow inside, but somehow he's still the most prized animal in this room.

People applaud. His Mistress preens and tugs on one of Bran's pigtails. Bran barks because that's what it seems like he should do.

Dinner is an upscale affair. Bran lays down with his legs folded beneath him, hands flat against the ground, at his Mistress's side. Jai kneels on the other side. Sometimes his Mistress or Yani and the other guard toss food to the floor in front of him. Bran eats it. Jai is sometimes hand-fed.

Guests continually come around to congratulate the Mistress on her prize-fighting dog. They pet at Bran. Bran growls and barks at them. For the most part, his growls and barks keep their touch from lingering for too long.

The rest of the evening is uneventful.

Back in their room, Bran wants to just sleep into oblivion on his pallet. But his Mistress has other plans for him.

She wants to watch Jai fuck him. It's been awhile since Bran has had cock inside of him. That incessant itch, that need, is still there. It's just something Bran has learned to deal with. It becomes something that just _is_ after awhile.

The Mistress lounges in bed while Jai and Bran perform for her at the foot of the bed.

When Bran just lies there, unsure of how else to submit, Jai whispers in his ear. "Kiss me. Touch me. Desire me. Put on a show for our Mistress."

It's been so long since Bran hasn't been in a power play dynamic where he was supposed to be on top at all times. Now he's supposed to desire Jai, touch and kiss Jai, let Jai fuck him. His head is still spinning from this entire weekend.

Jai's mouth caresses over all of Bran's scars from the war, over all of his fresh wounds from this weekend. Jai takes his time and it takes Bran's breath away. Bran's hands rest gently at the back of Jai's head, smooth down over his neck to his shoulders. Jai has an otherworldly feel to him, perfection in every way. Not a single scar on skin that's dark as night. Jai is tall and slender. Jai's kisses feel good.

Bran's body starts to arch up into each and every kiss. Especially when Jai's mouth is on his cock. How can he not react to that? His cock is hard and wanting. His ass clenches around the plug inside.

Maybe he doesn't have to work so hard to desire Jai. His body is made for this now. His body knows what it wants, he just has to quit fighting it.

Jai rolls him over, he pays attention to all of Bran's scars back there too. His hands slide up Bran's spine and back down. The plug is pressed deeper inside and then twisted and pulled out. Bran pulls his knees up underneath him, arches his back and presses his ass out for Jai.

There is nothing painful about the way Jai's cock fills him up. There's nothing painful about the way his body accept the other man. There's nothing painful about how damn good it feels to have something moving in his ass. There's nothing painful about him and Jai.

It's the first time in a long while that pain hasn't been dealt to him or expected of him. There is nothing painful in this moment. Bran nestles himself into it and commits it to memory. It's nice to know that not everything is pain. This one thing is pain free.

Bran pushes back against Jai as the other pet starts to fuck him. It's not a quick and hurried fuck like Bran is now accustomed to. This is something luxurious and slow. Maybe this is his reward for winning, for being a good dog.

The Mistress spreads her legs and touches herself, her fingers toying with her folds and sliding inside. They put on a show for her. She puts on a show for him. Maybe everything is a show now. She watches them fuck. They watch her touch herself. Their pleasure is hers. Her pleasure is theirs.

Jai cums before Bran does. He grabs at Bran's hair and pulls him up. With his cock still inside of Bran, Jai brings a hand around to jerk Bran off. Their Mistress makes the most delicious sounds as she brings herself to orgasm. Bran spills too.

They sleep together on the bed, Jai cuddled with their Mistress beneath the sheets, Bran on top of the sheets at the foot of the bed, snuggled in against their legs.

 

* * *

 

When they get back to the Mistress's house, Bran isn't taken to the Mistress's bedroom with her. She speaks with Jai privately and then Jai comes over to Bran.

"Stand up, pet." Jai says.

Bran is so used to crawling at this point that the instruction surprises him. He gets up to his feet.

Jai places a hand to Bran's cheek and smooths a thumb over his skin. "You are one of the Mistress's pets in the harem. You are allowed to walk on two feet unless she calls for you to be her dog. Clasp your hands behind your back and follow me."

He doesn't want to follow Jai. Bran wants to go to his pallet where his toys are. He looks at the Mistress and whines. He's been a loyal dog. He won his fights. He fought for her. He killed for her. He fucked a dead man for her. Isn't that good enough? Doesn't she want to keep him?

She shakes her head at him. "Go with Jai, Bran. Do as he says."

The betrayal is a thick and palpable thing. Bran has been betrayed by so many people before. Now, here he is again. He glares at her because that will hide anything that looks like hurt from his features. She's a crazy bitch. Why should he care that she wants to stow him away with the rest of her pets?

He hates that he cares. What about his pallet? What about his food bowls? What about his toys? His alligator?

Fuck everything.

Bran follows Jai. They're led with a guarded escort through the hallways to a set of double doors. A keypad is punched. A thumb is scanned. The doors open to a massive room. One whole half of the floor is a large pallet. There are a few couches and smaller pallets and pillows scattered about.

There are other naked people in this room, the harem that he knows from the Gallery showings. There's the very tall, built man who also has breasts. There's a dainty girl who shines like a star, dainty and breakable. There are others too, pets that keep to themselves for various reasons, a set of what looks like twins.

On the walls are large portraits of the pets in this room in various erotic poses. There's even one of Bran and Jai from the first pose they were in in the Gallery. It feels weird looking at himself like that. How long has that been in here?

"Everyone, this is Bran. He is one of us now." Jai says, walking inside. A few of the pets say hello.

Bran picks the first small pallet he sees and kneels there by himself. He ignores any attempt at people speaking with him. He glares at the opposite wall.

The Mistress is just going to abandon him here? Why does he feel like the world just got turned upside down again? Why does he hurt inside? Why does this make everything so damn confusing again? 

Fuck her. Fuck everyone.

Deep breaths. Inhale - one... two... three... Exhale - three... two... one...

His finger tap-tap-taps against his own knuckles at his back.

Another slow breath in - one... two... three... And out - three... two... one...

Eventually, the waifish albino girl comes to kneel beside him, knees spread, hands clasped at her back just as Bran is. She doesn't say anything. She just kneels there with him. Bran growls at her. She gives him a sad smile of her own and then looks straight ahead. He stares at the opposite wall too.

The floor is solid beneath him. Everything that isn't tangible is in a dangerous free fall that nothing, especially a tiny wisp of a girl with platinum hair, can stop.

When the lights are dimmed for nighttime, that wisp of a girl reaches for Bran's arm and pulls. Bran bares and snaps his teeth at her. He growls. She doesn't back down.

"Come." she says.

Bran lets her pull him over to the large pallet where all of the pets have converged. Bran ends up lying down between the man with the breasts and the albino girl. Their names, he learns, are Dare and Lily. Jai lies down behind Lily.

For a long time Bran lies awake. Eventually though, sleep finds him. Bran is glad for sleep. There isn't that endless falling feeling when he's asleep. There isn't betrayal and anger and hurt when he's asleep. He doesn't feel abandoned when he's asleep, surrounded by other abandoned people.

 

* * *

 

There's a new routine in the harem. Each morning when the lights come on they're expected to use a communal shower, clean themselves inside and out, lube themselves up, put their own plugs in. The pets in the harem all seem to assist one another with these tasks. Bran tries to do it by himself just once. Jai takes over after that poor attempt. And after that, sometimes Lily and Dare help him too.

Bran gets caught staring at Dare's breasts one time.

The man grins at him. "Feels like I've always had them sometimes. Wanna feel them?"

"No."

"Your loss, man." Dare says.

There are some nights when certain names are called to go to the Mistress. The pets seem excited about this. While she had been training and gaining Bran's loyalty, it had been just her and Bran through that time. Now his Mistress is taking forgotten books off the shelf again.

Bran remains forgotten.

"She call on you again soon." Lily's stilted English is sometimes difficult to understand. Her intuition about people and what they're thinking and feeling seems to be spot on much of the time.

Bran shakes his head. He doesn't know if he wants her to call on him again. Fuck the Mistress. No, he doesn't want her.

Time passes. Bran isn't called. The status quo of the harem becomes routine for Bran. He lets the pets help him in the mornings. Then he kneels on a pallet and glares at the opposite wall.

One day the pets are told there will be another Gallery showing. Bran lets Jai put dark kol around his eyes. Jai has kol around his as well, but it's been tattooed on, inked into his skin. Bran is thankful that his is temporary.

When the time comes, they file into the banquet room with the framed shadowboxes. Bran knows that he's about to see the Mistress and he isn't sure how to feel about that. He isn't sure how he's supposed to react to her, how he's supposed to act. Is he supposed to be a dog or this, whatever he is in the harem?

She enters the room wearing something absolutely gorgeous that hugs every curve. Bran hates that he wants to bite and lick the inside of her thighs. She spends time with each pet as she always does. They all clamor for her attention. Bran stands still and glares straight ahead.

The Mistress stands before him and smiles wickedly. Bran glares at her.

"My rabid dog." She says. "You have been missed."

Bran's eyes narrow and he growls at her. That earns him a slap to his cheek. Bran barks at her. She wants a rabid dog? He has so much anger and hurt pent up inside of him that he's willing to give her just that. Just when he's about to leap at her, guards grab his arms and hold him back.

The Mistress stares at him for a long moment. Then she instructs the guards to take him over to the table in the center of the room. He's strong armed onto the table and strapped down on the wooden surface spread eagle. Bran pulls at his restraints and can't budge.

Eventually, the Artist comes over to him and pulls his plug from his ass. He replaces it with another one, a longer one, a curved one. Something tight is put around his sac and the base of his cock. The ball gag is put in his mouth.

Bran is left alone then. All around him on the table, fine china is being set out, fancy silverware placed to either side, crystal champagne glasses, name cards.

What the fuck? Is he going to be left here through the whole fucking dinner?

The Mistress comes over to him finally. "My rabid dog is upset with me, understandably so. But it is my will be done, not yours, Bran. This was not my plan for the evening. But I think you will make a very nice centerpiece throughout dinner. You will learn your place."

She reaches down to press the base of the plug and it starts vibrating inside of him, sending a whole different kind of shock wave through him. This one feels so damn good, too good. Bran whines around the ball gag.

"My guests are about to arrive. They will love looking at you throughout their meal."

As she turns away from him, Bran cries out. She pays him no attention. Guests come and admire the live, pornographic artwork around the room. They admire Bran.

During dinner, when he would have usually been forgotten for much of the evening in a shadowbox, he's ogled and touched and played with. Bran's skin his hot with embarrassment. He's supposed to be an Alpha dog! He's not supposed to be this.

Food is put on his abdomen, on his thighs, and licked off. His cock is stroked, his balls fondled. His feet are tickled. His neck and nipples are caressed. That vibration in his ass never stops. His body writhes from all of it, he groans around the gag, and he can't fucking cum. His mind loses any thought but to cum, to feel and to need.

By the end of the night he's reduced to something that's a mockery of an intelligent, free-thinking human being. Want. Need. Help. Please help.

The guests have left and pets are climbing down out of their shadowboxes. Bran is unstrapped from the table.

It's his Mistress who stops the vibrating dildo and pulls it out. She replaces it with the plug Bran came in with.

"Please..." Bran whispers. "Please, Mistress."

She shakes her head and leaves the tight ring around Bran's cock and balls. "You will not cum tonight. You will not touch yourself. "You've been a bad dog. You will remember your place, Bran."

The only thing Bran can think to do in response to that is to whine like the bad dog he is. If he had dog ears they would be pulled back. If he had a tail it would be tucked.

_Bad dog._


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Bran remembers his place. Months go by and his name isn't called on to please the Mistress. He sees her when she has a Gallery showing. She pets him and smiles at him, then hands him off to the Artist to pose in a framed shadowbox on the wall. She always chooses the other pets to spend time with her, to put on a show for her guests after dinner.

It hurts more than Bran cares to admit. She made him loyal to her. She made him care about her. She made him willing to kill for her. Then she cast him aside.

This is his punishment for being a bad dog.

Bran doesn't really speak with the other pets in the harem all that much. He's never been the best conversationalist even before this place. Dogs aren't supposed to speak anyway. Aside from Jai and Lily, they mostly keep their distance from him. They know that Bran bites and bruises and draws blood.

Pain is Bran. Bran is pain.

At nighttime when Lily or Jai pull him over into a pile of bodies, Jai always makes sure that he's by Bran so that if Bran bites it's Jai he bites. If he bruises, it's Jai he bruises. If blood is drawn, it's Jai's blood. This is all Bran knows how to be anymore so he's thankful for Jai. He can't imagine marking Lily's perfect skin or making Dare feel ugly with scars.

The other pets are so perfect. Bran is the scarred one. Jai lets Bran be Bran without making Bran feel bad for it.

There eventually comes a time when it's Bran's name is called. He continues to glare at the far wall. Lily's hand rests on his arm and squeezes lightly. "Bran. Your Mistress wants you."

Bran blinks and looks over to the door. The guard there is watching him expectantly. Is his punishment over? His Mistress wants him again?

He stands and walks across the room. Out in the hallway, Yani stands with the leash that matches his collar. It's snapped in place and Bran gets down on all fours. He hates that it feels good to be down on all fours. Can he be a good dog again? Yes. Please.

Yani leads him through the house to the Mistress's private rooms. His pallet is in place at the foot of the bed. His food and water bowls. His toys. He wants to grab the alligator, but he waits and lets his Mistress walk around him, run her fingers through his hair.

"Are you ready to fight for me again, Bran?"

Bran barks. Yes, anything to make his world right again.

"Good dog."

Bran flicks his tongue over her outstretched hand. He leans in and licks her cheek. She smiles and ruffles his hair.

"Go lie on your pallet, Bran. We're going to another match and you are going to win for me."

Bran barks and goes over to his pallet. He grabs the alligator and shakes the toy back and forth. Then he settles on the cushion and holds the toy between his hands against the floor. He pulls at some of the stuffing. All feels right with the world.

 

* * *

 

Bran wins the dog fights for his Mistress. In fact, he wins four out of five over the next year. Each time they get back to the Mistress's house she sends him back to the harem. He always feels empty and off-kilter in the harem. His name is called more frequently though. He gets to be his Mistress's dog more often.

After the fifth fight, they're arriving back to the Mistres's home. Bran is on his leash held by his Mistress. There's a delivery truck parked out front. Men are unloading a wooden crate from it.

"Martin. It is so good to see you free again. I knew you would come back into the fold."

The man called Martin smiles at his Mistress and nods respectfully to her. "Mistress. I brought you the present I told you about."

"Ahhh this is his photo?" She pauses. "He is most lovely, just as described. Big. Strong. I like what I see."

"He is a wild creature, Mistress. A lion." Martin says. "He needs taming."

"He will be tamed. You know that my methods do not always match up with your own. Are you willing to let me do things in my own way?"

"Yes, Mistress. I only have a few requests. I want to speak with him before he is given to the brutes. And I ask that he learns to submit without breaking him. I enjoy his wildness. He could bring in top dollar for the gallery if this is done correctly. A big man like him, submitting? Those are few and far between."

The man, Martin, looks down to Bran on all fours and smile. Bran growls at him.

"And for me, you will do what in return?" The Mistress asks. "He is a liability as he is FBI. I take great risk in keeping him here."

Bran's gaze snaps to the box. There's a man in there. Bran was carried into this place in a box just like this. The man in this box is FBI. Something awakens deep inside Bran, parts of him that he's tried to quiet down.

_Hooah! It's a good day to die._

"I understand, Mistress." Martin says. "I will be back in your employ. I'll bring you more merchandise. You know I was always good at that."

Bran's Mistress smiles. "You were one of my best." She seems to deliberate for a moment. "I will keep him then. For now. I cannot wait to see this wildness you speak of."

"Thank you, Mistress."

The Mistress turns to the guards. "Take him to the Catacombs. Let Martin see him first. Then let the Brutes have him for awhile."

Chills ripple down Bran's spine. He starts when he hears something beat at the lid of the crate. A man's voice screaming to be let out. Bran remembers screaming similar things. Just as with him, the guards laugh at the man inside.

A tug on his leash pulls him inside with his Mistress. She tells him how proud of him she is and then hands him off to Yani.

Bran is led back to the harem. His leash is taken away and Bran stands up and walks into the showers. He lets warm water wash over him, picks at scabs and dried blood on his skin. When he's done, he goes over to the mirrors to brush his teeth. His face, his entire body, is one big bruise. These last fights had been brutal.

He thinks back to the man in the box, FBI. Maybe he's a plant. Maybe someone knows what's going on here. Maybe someone is going to come get them and take them back into the real world.

The real world is a scary thing now, he realizes.

Bran walks back out into the main room and kneels on his usual pallet, away from everyone. Instead of glaring at the walls, he looks over to the other pets. None of these people are going to survive out there in the real world. They've all been warped to the point of no return. Even Bran has been warped.

Something else awakens inside of him. Bran feels protective of these people. He wants to be their hero. He wants to help this FBI guy get them out of here. He wants to be the hero of this nightmare-ish story.

Bran feels hope for the first time in a long time. It feels good.

 

* * *

 

Patience is the name of the game here. It's months later when the new pet is brought in. Bran is still so convinced that he must be a plant, the moment is so built up in his mind that he can't help but hope that help is coming. Who would dare to abduct a federal agent? His Mistress would. And maybe this is her downfall. Bran is conflicted about that, but deep down, he still knows that all of this is wrong.

Jai brings the new pet into the harem in the same way he had with Bran so long ago. The man is big and looks strong. And like Bran, he doesn't look down. The others look surprised at the new pet. Bran just stares at him, trying to gauge the man's head space.

"New pet." Jai says. "The Mistress has chosen to keep him for herself for awhile. He is called Derek."

Derek. FBI. People with power will be looking for him if nothing else.

The man looks like he wants to speak, but doesn't. Bran knows that feeling. Bran doesn't speak very much anymore either.

Jai shows the new pet around. Bran's gaze follows him the whole way. When they settle together in a far corner, Bran listens to Jai's instructions to Derek. He watches Jai touch Derek in the same casual way that all the pets in the harem touch one another, the way Derek reacts to it, both wanting and not.

If Derek is under cover, he's deep into it. Fuck, Bran wishes he could just come out and ask him. That isn't possible though. There are cameras everywhere in this space, guards too.

For a week Bran watches Derek. He watches Lily put make-up on him. He watches Derek feel Dare's breasts and laugh. He watches Derek snuggle with Jai. Anytime Derek looks at him, he glares. Other pets look away from Bran's glare. Derek doesn't. Derek watches him curiously, reading him, Bran thinks.

He waits for any sign that the man is an FBI plant. He sees no sign of that and his insides start dipping into a very dark place again. If the Gallery can abduct an FBI agent with no repercussions, then how fucking powerful are they?

Whatever hope Bran had felt rapidly deflates.

 

* * *

 

Things return to the status quo when Derek is so quickly sold to another Master. Bran fights in two more dog fights and wins both. Sometimes he's called in to fuck people for his Mistress. She tells him to call them names, belittle them, bring them down a peg or two. Bran is good at this. He's quit thinking of it as rape. This is just what he does. He causes pain. He hurts people, physically, mentally.

His favorite is when Yani is waiting for him in the hallway with his leash. That means he gets to be his Mistress's dog. He's good at causing pain. He's good at tearing people down for his Mistress. He's better at being a dog.

There's one time when Bran is in the parlor with his Mistress. He's laying on his pallet, legs folded up beneath him and his palms flat on the floor.

The guards bring someone in, stripped of his clothes, hands bound in front of them. They throw the man down to the floor in front of her. Bran recognizes the man as one of the guards who usually escorts the harem from one place to another.

His Mistress curls her fingers in Bran's locks and pulls. "Up, Bran."

Bran gets up to his knees. His Mistress leans over to smooth her lips against his cheek. "This man thought to betray me. He conspired to take all of my pets out of here. He conspired to take you away from me. Do you want that?"

Bran whines because he knows it's the right thing to do. A part of him doesn't want to be away from his Mistress. A part of him doesn't care because she abandons him so often. He can't deny that he would miss her if they were really and truly apart.

Her nails scrape over his scalp, pull through his locks. Then her fingers hook in his collar at the back of his neck. "I am going to send him to the catacombs... if you don't kill him first, my rabid dog." Bran's chest feels tight. "Beat him, Bran. Fuck him. Show him what awaits him in the Catacombs. Tell him what a good hole he will be." Her teeth bite at his earlobe. "It would please me for you to kill him after you have raped him. But that will be your choice."

She wants him to fuck and kill this man. Bran looks at him. A part of his mind has been warped into wanting to please his Mistress by any means possible. He's killed for her before.

The man has a steel resolve as he stares back at Bran. "I tried to help you." The man says to Bran.

Bran barks at the former guard and growls.

"Get him. Make him pay for hurting me, Bran." She lets go of Bran's collar and Bran rushes at the man.

He can't say what makes him latch his teeth onto the man's neck, bite down hard and pull. But he does that very thing and blood sprays all over him, all over the floor.

"I was trying to help you." The man says, his bound hands pressing to his throat to try and staunch the blood drain.

Bran's hand grabs the man at the back of the neck and pushes him down. He struggles a bit. But Bran is stronger. Bran's body isn't quickly draining of blood. Bran shoves his cock into the man and he fucks him.

"Fucking hole. Nothing but a traitor and a hole." Bran says, because his Mistress has said for him to tell the man what's in store for him in the Catacombs. He won't be going to the catacombs though. This is Bran's way of helping him. In Bran's mind, death is better than the Catacombs. The guard's death is brutal, but also quick and easy. Bran still fucks him even after he quits struggling, even as the pool of blood on the floor grows, even as the man draws his last breath.

He looks over to his Mistress. Her smile is wicked. Bran is still cumming when he pulls out of the man. He hikes a leg and pisses on his ass, his thighs. Then he crawls back to his Mistress.

Her hand cups his chin, tilts his blood covered face up. "You killed him too quickly, but I am still pleased. You will sleep with me tonight." She looks over to Yani. "Yani, bathe my rabid dog."

Bran is taken upstairs. His heart feels hard. His soul feels sad. His mind is lost in a sea of blood and piss and cum as the water turns pink while Yani bathes him. His guard is sure to get all of it off of him. He washes Bran three times before he's sure he's entirely clean.

Yani brushes his teeth twice, makes Bran rinse and spit twice. Then Bran is fed kibble and fresh water is put in his bowl.

After he eats, Bran holds his alligator between his paws and worries the material through his teeth. He's just been washed three times over and he still feels dirty.

_I was trying to help you._

Bran's mind is in a dark, dark place. He starts tearing at the alligator with hands and teeth, stitching rips, stuffing flies. He gets his teeth around the damn squeaker and pulls until it rips out of the fabric. He spits it out and then turns to lie on his side with his back to the mess. His hands shake as he holds them to his chest.

Fuck that alligator. Fuck people trying to help where help is an impossible thing. And most of all, fuck himself for being this mess of a pet that they've made him into. Maybe, in his next dog fight, he should let another dog rip his throat out.

It's a good day to die.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

As predicted, the alligator toy is thrown away when his Mistress sees the mess Bran made of it. Yani brings in a stuffed dog for Bran to play with. Bran doesn't chew on the dog. It isn't his alligator. He doesn't want to be attached to anything like that anymore. He doesn't want to need a safety blanket of any kind.

Time passes. His Mistress seems to notice the change in him. She doesn't much care for it and doesn't make him go fight in the dog fights again for awhile. Bran is partly disappointed because he wants to just be done and he doesn't think he can do it to himself. He's partly thankful too, because deep down he's still a fighter and he always will be.

Sometimes she has Yani come get him, hook his leash to his collar and take him outside to the yard to play or up to her rooms or into the parlor with her. She doesn't ask Bran to kill anyone again, not for awhile at least. She does occasionally want him to fuck people in a way that edges the line between sex and rape. Bran is unfortunately good at that too. He can see now, the line of his reconditioning from the very beginning in the catacombs.

Life is easiest when he's pretending to be a dog.

In many ways he looks forward to it, to being told to sit, lay down, roll over. He looks forward to very little being required of him except to bark and growl and whine. He looks forward to turning his mind off and just immersing himself in the life and mindset of a dog.

Most importantly, Bran is given time to remember why he's more of a fighter and less of the man who wants someone to rip his throat out. Someone, after all, has to look after the other pets in the harem.

Bran is closest to Lily and Jai. Although Dare makes it very near impossible to hate him. Dare keeps pushing his way in with Bran and Bran keeps pushing him back out because he's a confusion to him. How can anyone really know Dare when Dare doesn't really know himself? 

Maybe that isn't fair. Bran never claimed to be perfect.

It's months later when Jai returns from a trip with the Mistress and announces that Derek is coming back into the harem.

Bran glares at the far wall to one of Derek's erotic portraits. "Why's he coming back here?"

Every pet in the room looks at him. It isn't often that Bran speaks actual words out loud. Jai offers him a sad smile and comes over to him to pet at his hair. "His Master is ill. His Master did the right thing for him. He was in an accident in transport. The outside world took him back. He chose to come back to us."

What? This is something he fucking _chose_? Bran has to stifle a growl.

_FBI, my ass. Fucking idiot._

Derek's return is a joyous occasion for everyone. Even Bran feels a tiny leap of hope when he sees Derek. That doesn't stop him from glaring at the man. Maybe, just maybe, this time Derek Morgan of the FBI has an actual plan to get them the fuck out of here.

Bran watches him and waits.

 

* * *

 

Derek doesn't seem to have a plan. In fact, Derek wants to go back to his Master. A Master that Bran and the rest of the harem gets to hear all about. Bran wants to throttle Derek's neck. He also wishes he had a Master who treated him so well and gave him so much attention.

Fuck Derek. Fuck Antoine. Fuck the Mistress. Fuck everyone.

Bran stews in his own anger, mostly angry with himself. He hates who he is. He hates what they've made of him. He hates what he's become. He even hates who he was before the Gallery. There's just a lot of anger inside of him, building and building.

He's ready to fight again. He hopes his Mistress can see it when he sees her next, that he's ready to fight for her again. He _needs_ to fight.

Several days later and Bran's name is finally called. He wants to see Yani out in the hallway with his leash. But somehow he knows that isn't happening since Derek's name was called first.

Derek looks back at him. Bran glares at Derek.

They both pad barefoot through the house with their hands clasped behind their back. They're led to the large parlor where their Mistress is speaking on the phone to someone. They both get to their knees before her. Derek seems distracted. Bran tries to figure out why.

"One moment." She says to whoever she's speaking with.

"Bran, my pet." She nods from Bran to Derek. "He is here for your pleasure."

"Thank you, Mistress." Bran says.

Derek looks over to him with his brow arched as if the guy didn't know that Bran could actually speak. Bran gives him a look that says 'fuck you'.

Derek looks away when the Mistress addresses him. "What are you to do, Derek?"

"I'm to submit, Mistress."

"Very good." She moves away and continues her phone conversation.

Still, Derek seems distracted, seems to pay Bran little attention. For some reason, that gets under Bran's skin more than anything. FBI guy isn't scared of him at all. Bran is an Alpha dog and Derek isn't scared, barely seems to send a thought his way.

Even as Bran gets to his feet his fist is full of braided mane and hauling Derek to his feet. Bran and Derek have almost the same build, same height, same musculature. Bran has fought men bigger and stronger than Derek. It's easy to shove his fist into Derek's spine between his shoulder blades and slam him face first into the wall.

Bran wants Derek to fight him. Derek doesn't fight.

He grabs Derek's wrists and presses them bruisingly into the wall above his head. He's been trained to take sex, make it hurt, belittle and degrade. Bran is pain. Bran leans in to hiss instruction in Derek's ear. "Leave them there. I'm gonna play with this pretty pussy of yours. Whore."

It hasn't gone unnoticed that Derek hasn't been wearing a plug for a few days. This is going to hurt. Bran forces himself inside anyway, just like he has with other men and women hundreds of times before. Derek cries out and Bran hates that a part of him revels in it, considers it a victory.

He glances over to his Mistress. She's watching them while still speaking on the phone. "Oh, come on, pretty little cunt. Call yourself a whore." Bran says.

Derek doesn't fight. But he doesn't say what Bran wants him to say, what he knows will please their Mistress. Bran wants her to see that his fight is back.

"Say it, cunt."

Again, Derek says nothing. Bran grabs braids again, pulls Derek's head back and slams it into the wall. "Say it." He prods again.

"I'm... I'm a whore. Sir." Derek says.

There it is. Bran is an Alpha dog. He wins. Maybe his Mistress will see that and let him fight again.

"Louder."

"I'm a whore."

"Louder!"

"I'm a whore!"

Bran slams his cock into Derek, fucking the other pet into the wall as hard as he can, putting on a good show for their Mistress, letting her see his fight.

"How's your pussy feel? Does it feel good, Derek?" Bran asks.

"Yes, Sir."

"Say it."

"My pussy feels good, Sir."

He likes the tone in which Derek says those words, as if he's embarrassed by them. Their Mistress will like it too.

"And you're a what?

"I'm a whore."

This is too easy. Bran wants Derek to fight him. Derek isn't fighting him. He laughs, remembering how he'd built Derek up in his mind because of the FBI attachment when the reality is that Derek is just as much a victim as they all are, just as fucked up in the head as they all are.

Derek and Bran are the same... the same fucking tragedy. Bran laughs against the back of Derek's neck, thinking maybe he's going a little bit insane.

He wants it over. He wants to win and end this before he really slips into insanity full throttle.

His hand snakes up between Derek and the wall, his fingers finding those pressure points to restrict air flow. It won't kill Derek. It'll just make him pass out. Bran is till trying to quell his laughter when Derek's leg slips back between his. Bran knows what he's doing, Derek is thinking about fighting back.

_Try it. Come on, fight me._

In the end, Derek lets Bran choke him unconscious. Even when Derek's knees buckle, Bran follows him to the floor and finishes fucking him. He pisses on Derek's ass as he knows is expected of him. Then he crawls over to his Mistress and rubs his head against her leg.

Her fingers comb through his hair. "My rabid dog is back, it seems. This pleases me."

 

* * *

 

Back in the harem's rooms, Derek is cuddled by Dare and Lily. No one ever cuddles with Bran. Jai holds Bran to keep him from hurting the other pets. Bran gets it. He understands. People don't cuddle with razor blades either.

When he hears Derek say that he's okay, he looks away. Glaring at the wall is easier than looking at the victim of a victim. It's also easier than looking at people who have no idea what to do with him.

Alone. Bran is always alone.

 

* * *

 

When the Mistress comes into the harem a few days later Bran is as surprised as anyone. It isn't often she comes in here. Usually it's with a purpose. She comes over to his pallet and pets at his head, scratches at his ears. Then she moves on to the next pet.

Once everyone has had attention, she singles Derek out and pulls him aside. The entire room is privy to the conversation where she tells Derek that his Master is dead.

It's horrible. The room takes a collective pause as if they all sigh together. Bran's heart hurts for no good reason. Or maybe he knows what it feels like to lose your footing in that way just when you need it the most. Bran watches the Mistress get down on her knees with Derek and hold him. Sometimes, on rare occasion, she does the right thing.

Over the course of the next two weeks Bran watches the other pets comfort and coddle Derek. He also watches Derek slowly unraveling into something unrecognizable. He watches as Derek holds conversations only with himself.

Bran knows where broken pets go. They get sold off or put in the catacombs for people like him to rape. He can see now that that's what those people were, broken pets that the Mistress can't sell.

Not all pets are roaring success stories like the people in this room.

It might seem that Bran is always lost in his own head. But no, he watches things, he notices things that others can't necessarily see from up close. Derek is falling apart in spite of everyone's attempts to keep him in tact. He'll end up in the Catacombs if he isn't careful.

So far, the guards haven't noticed anything. Bran has been watching for that, watching for them to notice something and report back to the Mistress.

Then Derek screams at nothing.

"Stop!" Derek yells. "Just... leave me alone!"

Well, fuck.

That gets everyone's attention. The guards look over at Derek and start walking across the room.

Without thinking twice about it, Bran stands up and claims responsibility. Bran is the asshole of the group. He can play this off in the most asshole way possible.

He smirks and saunters over to Derek. Everything about him screams cocky bastard, Alpha dog. "Finally got to you, huh?"

Derek looks confused, the idiot. "What?"

Bran addresses the guards. "I've been fuckin' with him for awhile. Guess he finally broke."

The guards look amused by this and back off to their stations by the door.

Bran kneels in front of Derek. "You gotta stop that shit. The Mistress will send you to the labs to help you find some equilibrium." And that's the least crazy thing she could do to Derek. Bran doesn't mention what he'd seen and done in the Catacombs.

He puts a hand in Derek's hair and cants his head back so that he's looking up at him. "You hear me?"

"Yes, Sir."

Bran sits down beside Derek, his shoulder pressed against the other man's. He glares over to the guards while Derek continues to play with the hair of the pet sitting in front of him.

Sitting over here, this is a whole different vantage point of the same sad situation. He can't say he much cares for it. But Bran will stay here until Dare, Lily and Jai return.

It's hard to watch Derek go away again a week later. Bran feels responsible for him. Bran feels like Derek needs the harem. Maybe in some ways the harem needs Derek too. That hope Bran had felt when he knew Derek was FBI might have amounted to nothing in the long run, but it kept Bran alive in a very low time.

His parting words remind Derek to fight. He hopes they stick. He hopes Derek can find the right voice in his head and survive. That's all that any of them can do: survive.

The next week his Mistress takes him and Jai on a trip to another dog fight. Bran survives. In fact, he wins. It feels good to fight and win.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Sometimes time and distance can cast a foggy haze over the brevity of a situation, over the cause and effect of it. Probable consequences seem less probable and memories become fuzzy around the edges. Routine can make a person lax, less sharp.

Bran needs to stay sharp. His conscience is already a very dark place.

The routine of the harem is easy if not boring. Bran showers with the other pets and brushes his teeth. Jai usually helps him with the lube and the plug. Then he kneels on his pallet away from everyone. Sometimes he'll go entire days just like that. Sometimes Lily, and vicariously Dare, will come kneel by him.

If it's just Lily, words aren't necessary. If Dare is there, he has a hard time being silent for too long. He'll talk about anything from Bran's collar to the color of the red paint on the walls to how cute he looks. Bran doesn't always comment except to grumble and call names here and there. His lack of protest speaks volumes, he thinks. He doesn't mind the company no matter how annoying it is.

Bran fights for his Mistress. Sometimes she calls him in to be her dog for a day or two. Sometimes she allows him to pleasure her in more sexual ways.

She has traitors brought in with increasing frequency. Taking care of those supposed traitors falls to Bran. It feels like a test, to see if he's still her rabid dog. He is. But he's also these people's savior. He keeps them from the Catacombs. He's their hero whether they realize it or not.

He has one man who whispers 'kill me' to him before he even gets to it. The plea only solidifies that he's doing the right thing in this world where right is wrong and wrong is right.

Bran spends extra time in the shower, longer than any of the other pets, trying to get blood off of his skin whether there's any blood on him or not. He feels like he's coated in it. But when he looks in the mirrors after his showers, after all the other pets have finished in the room, there's not a spec on him. How can that be?

At one of his dog fights, Jai is left behind. It's just Bran and his Mistress and several more guards than they usually take. Yani holds onto his leash as they get out of the car.

A man with tanned skin, wearing a suit and fedora comes over to his Mistress. Bran barks and growls at him as he's supposed to.

"I didn't expect to see you here. There are rumors, Mistress."

"The rumors are false. All is well in the Gallery. My dog will win as he almost always does."

Rumors? What rumors? Bran can so easily connect this to the increasing number of people his Mistress has deemed possible traitor, people he's mercy killed. What's happening? What's going on?

"I've learned not to bet against him. What I wouldn't give to get something like that to submit to me."

"Everything has a price. We might be able to negotiate."

His Mistress is willing to sell time with him to a stranger. The sting of that is harsh. He hopes that whatever rumors of unrest within the Gallery will keep that from happening.

Once again Bran is put in a cage and given a number. Bets are placed. Bran wins his first three fights. He's never lost unless he's made it to the final fight. And even then, it's only happened twice out of too many times to name. Most dogs are ill equipped to deal with Bran's knowledge of the human body and it's weak points. Most dogs are ill equipped to deal with his skill.

The last fight is difficult. His opponent is skilled and wild. Bran is bleeding from an open wound in his brow. Blood drips into one of his eyes. His entire body is humming, aching. He's one big bruise waiting to rise to the surface. He's dealt just as many blows to the other dog. They're both in pain. They're both tiring out.

Something sharp cuts at his abdomen. He looks down to see a razor blade in the dog's hand. Weapons aren't allowed.

The volume of the crowd rises and Bran leaps forward, landing another heavy blow to the man's face. The blade slices at the side of Bran's neck and he feels the warm wet of blood dripping down. It takes some maneuvering, but he puts pressure at a point on the man's wrist and hand that makes him drop the blade. Another blow to the man's face, this one hard enough to break the skin of his knuckles and the other dog is knocked out.

Bran looks at the blade, lying on the floor inches from him. He could pick it up and end this. He's killed so many, what's one more?

The crowd is screaming for Bran to fuck the other dog even as Bran's head is swimming, even as blood dribbles out of his neck, out of so many other cuts. Bran flips the dog over and gives them what they want. He fucks the other dog hard. He cums. He pisses on him.

Then he crawls over to his Mistress and licks her hand. She pets at his hair. How Bran won that fight, he doesn't know. But his Mistress is pleased with him. That can only mean good things.

Yani takes him back to a side room and presses bandages at the worst of the wounds. It's rare that Yani can't take care of whatever wounds Bran has. This time Yani has to call in a doctor.

Bran is tended to, stitched up and carried upstairs to his Mistress's rooms. He's laid on his pallet and he stares blankly up at the ceiling until finally sleep takes him over.

 

* * *

 

There are many hours where Bran is left alone to sleep. Bran knows this because when he's woken up, Yani is leaning over him and his Mistress is changing out of the dress she wore to the banquet. Bran missed the banquet that always seems to follow the fights.

He still feels weak. He's still in pain. He could sleep for days, he thinks.

"Bran, you will go to my friend and please him tonight." His Mistress says.

What? But Bran won his fights. He's been a good dog. He's done everything he's supposed to do. Remembering the conversation from when they first arrived, Bran wants to ask what the price was. But Yani is hooking his leash to his collar and telling him to come with him.

Bran rolls over and pushes up to all fours. It takes some work to get there. He's not at his best right now.

The Mistress comes over to him and pets at his hair. "You are to submit to him in all ways, in the way you submit to me."

Bran doesn't like the sound of that. He's an Alpha dog. He only submits to her. Her smile is wicked as always. She nods at Yani and his guard leads him out of the room.

They stop outside of another door and Yani squats down in front of him. He combs his fingers back through Bran's hair and gently touches at cuts, bruises and glue holding his skin together in some places.

"You are one big bruise right now, Bran. This will go easiest on you if you just allow him to do what he wants. Be a good dog for him."

Bran barks. The bark reminds him of when he was first told to be a dog. It's a pitiful excuse for a bark. He's too worn down to even try to correct it right now.

Yani stands and knocks on the door. The man from before answers it. A large roll of bills is given to Yani. Yani gives Bran's leash to this stranger. It feels like yet another betrayal. Once again, Bran feels alone... so alone.

The man leads him into his room and shuts the door. The room is similar to his Mistress's. One of the dogs from the fights that went out in the first round kneels on a small pallet in the corner.

The man squats down in front of him just as Yani had done. He grabs Bran's chin and forces his face up and chuckles at what he sees in spite of the way Bran growls and glares at him.

"You are an absolute mess." He looks over to his dog and turns Bran's face toward him. "You see this? This is what you should be. You should be this mess, not the pampered pup you are. Get over here."

Bran's chin is let go of. The other dog comes close and Bran instinctively growls at him. The dog hesitates and that's the wrong thing to do. His Master grabs his collar and jerks him in close to Bran. The other dog looks frightened. The man leans down to hiss in his dog's ear. "You're going to fuck a champion tonight, Marley. Fuck him."

Again, Bran is stunned. He won his fights. He pleased his Mistress. He's her Alpha dog. And he's been given to this Master so that this loser can fuck him? He growls and snaps his teeth at the other dog. The dog flinches.

The Master looks at Bran. "You are mine to do with as I please tonight. And tonight you're a bitch. My dog is going to fuck you. And you're going to let him."

Can he say no? Will this man shoot the other dog if he says no? The way this man speaks to and treats this dog, there's no real attachment there. This dog is probably one in a long line of dogs, like the dogs who came before Bran for his Mistress. He thinks back to Yani, his Mistress, the Catacombs. There are always consequences. Always. Even with this man there would be consequences.

_You will remember your place, Bran._

Once it seems that Bran understands, the Master smacks his dog on the ass. "Get to it."

Bran still can't help but growl when the other dog pulls the plug from his ass. That gets him a hard hit to the top of his head from the Master. Bran's head is still pounding from the fights earlier. The hit just makes it hurt worse.

"I want you to whine while he fucks you." The man says. "No barking. No growling. Whine."

_I'm an Alpha dog. I fight. I win. I won the fights._

Cock fills Bran's ass and he wants to growl, wants to turn around and kick this dog's ass. The way the Master looks at him says that that would be a very bad idea.

Bran whines.

As he whines, he feels a lot of his bravado slip away, a lot of his fight drains from him. There's no reason for it, really. Except that he's already so beaten down. Except that maybe he feels like he deserves this, after everything he's done in the name of survival and heroics.

He tries not to let his guilt, his fear, his sadness, rule him on a day-to-day basis. He tries to turn all of that into anger, into fight.

What happens when you take that away from Bran? He can't fight, he falls apart at the seams.

The other dog seems to leach whatever power Bran had from him. What started as a tentative fuck at best is now a harsh pounding.

Another bap to his head from the Master and his head throbs again. "What are you supposed to do?"

Bran whines again. The other dog fucks him and he whines.

"That's a good bitch. Just let it happen. Let him fuck your cunt." The man says. "See, Marley? This is the champion. This dog has won more fights than any dog in the history of these matches. And look at him. He's nothing but a whiney bitch, easily manipulated. You can beat him."

The other dog barks. Bran whines.

The Master reaches out to touch his dog's arm. "Don't cum yet. Pull out." The dog pulls out of him.

"Now, Bran, roll over and submit."

What? Bran has never, ever rolled over and submitted. He makes other dogs roll over and submit. He's the Alpha. Bran hesitates just long enough to earn another hit from the man.

"I won't tell you again, bitch."

Slowly, Bran gets down on the floor and rolls over to his back. He glares up at the other dog. Or, he thinks it's a glare. He feels like he's lost some of that razor sharp edge.

The man leans over to whisper into his dog's ear.

Marley shifts closer to Bran and straddles his chest. He leans over him with his cock in his face and starts rutting his cock against Bran's face. Bran has no idea if he's supposed to try to get it in his mouth or lick it or do anything at all. He opts for nothing. He hasn't been told to do anything.

When cum starts splattering on his face, Bran closes his eyes and winces.

"Whine, bitch." Marley's Master says.

Bran whines. He whines as cum smears on his face, dots his hair. It's followed by piss. Piss that gets in his hair, in his mouth and eyes, up his nostrils. Bran whines. The piss burns his eyes and makes them water and sting.

"That's my good dog. See? You can beat anyone. You can even beat the champion." The man pets at his dog's hair.

Bran lays there, one big mess, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes from the sting, staring at the ceiling. The Master pulls his dog aside and fucks him beside Bran. When he's cumming, he pulls out and spills his cum on Bran too. It dots his abdomen and his cock. Then piss follows.

The Master stands, closing his fly. He kicks at Bran's already bruised rib with the toe of his boot. "I want to hear you call yourself a bitch."

Bran doesn't fight it. He doesn't have any fight left right now. "I'm a fucking bitch."

The man chuckles and goes to the door. Yani stands outside. "I think we're done here. Get going, bitch."

It takes great effort to roll to his front again, to get up on all fours, to crawl out of the room. Yani takes his leash and leads him through the hallways, the champion of the evening, covered in piss and cum and dried blood. Some hero he is.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Although he doesn't know it yet, that's the last dog fight Bran will be taken to. He gets back to the compound and is led inside by Yani. His Mistress doesn't tell him he's a good dog. She's ignored him for the plane ride back home. She barely spares him more than a small smile. Bran hasn't even been bathed.

Bran gets the distinct impression that she knew what she sent him into with that other Master. Of course she knew. She's the Mistress. She sent him anyway. She got money for it. That money should be Bran's.

He's led through the house to the harem's rooms. Yani unhooks his leash from his neck and pets a hand over his hair. "You have been a very good dog this weekend. Go clean yourself up, rest and heal."

The double doors open and Bran forgets to stand on two feet to walk in as he usually does. He crawls in. He crawls over to his small pallet that no one else would ever dare use because they fear him, they know it's his, set away from everybody else. He doesn't kneel and glare at the wall as he usually does. Instead, he lays down with his back to the room. Bran closes his eyes and sleeps.

 

* * *

It's the sleep of the near dead. Bran sleeps for a long time. When he wakes up he's warm. He imagines Jai is probably trying to keep him from frightening or hurting the other pets.

"I dunno. I mean I knew she was using him to fight, but this seems like major overkill." That isn't Jai's voice. It's Dare's. Dare's voice isn't as boisterous as it usually is. It's hushed and whispered. Dare's large hand pets at Bran's hip and thigh.

"He fights in dog fights." There's Jai, just as hushed as Dare. Jai's elegant fingers slide through Bran's hair. Somehow Bran's head is resting in Jai's lap. "It pleases the Mistress for him to fight other dogs and win."

"Does it look like he won this one?" Dare asks. "It doesn't look like he won. He looks... I mean, shit... They didn't even clean him up. And that neck wound looks pretty bad."

"We clean him up." Lily, her voice soft and somehow musical even in its softness. "When he is ready."

Bran falls asleep again with hands petting him all over. This is a safe space. He can sleep.

 

* * *

 

It's a restless sleep. Bran dreams of blood, blood everywhere. He dreams of cum and piss and he can't seem to get out of any of it. He's a bitch. He's not the Alpha. Bran has been lied to, abandoned, defeated. Dead bodies, people he's killed, wake up and fuck him. There's no thanks for being kept out of the Catacombs. There's only the cold, hard truth. Bran is not the hero of the story. He's a murderer. He's nothing but a dog. And he's not even an Alpha.

When Bran wakes again bodies are curled around him. Three bodies. He knows them well. They've all fucked at one time or another either in here at nighttime or in the Gallery room.

Bran can smell his own stench and it strikes him then that these people are still with him in spite of it. In spite of all his dangerous, sharp edges. In spite of the fact that he only knows how to hurt. In spite of the fact that he's still covered in two day old blood, piss and cum. They're here with him.

He's crying and he doesn't know when he started or how to stop it. His body is wracked with sobs that leave him shuddering and gasping for air. Dare, Jai and Lily hold tighter to him. They pet him. They kiss him. Bran might be at his lowest, but he is not alone.

Eventually, his sobs turn into something silent and personal. Jai coaxes Bran up. Dare and Jai help Bran to the bathrooms and Lily goes in to turn on some warm water. Tears are still slowly trekking down Bran's cheeks as the water soothes him. The other three clean Bran, using soap and sponge over his whole body, working shampoo and conditioner into his hair multiple times to get all of the gunk out of it.

Bran just stands there and lets them help him. He needs the help. He needs to not be alone. He needs someone to want him and to be wanted. He needs to be held and touched and all those stupid things he tries not to need. So he lets them clean him, help him, be with him. He's not sure he has any fight right now even if he wanted to fight.

Jai removes Bran's collar and cleans it before clasping it back around Bran's neck.

When they're done, they lube him up and put a plug inside of him. They brush his teeth and take him into the dressing room. Bran kneels on a pallet while Lily combs his hair and Jai puts dark kol around his eyes. The kol makes the bruising seem less harsh. Dare dabs some lip balm on Bran's cut lip.

"Hey, man. You're gonna be okay." Dare says. "Feel free to growl and cuss at me any time."

It's amazing what being clean does for Bran. It helps lift him up out of the gutter. But his spirit is still wounded in so many ways he doesn't even know where to start in the repairing of it.

As it dries, Bran's hair starts curling at the tips. Lily starts finger curling it so that it flips out.

"I like you hair when it does this."

Bran looks at Lily and Lily smiles at him. A corner of Bran's lips twitches and he smirks. He looks at Jai and feels moisture in his eyes anew. Aside from the Gallery room and seeing it from afar, Jai is the only one who's seen first hand what the Mistress asks of Bran.

"I don't think I'm a very good dog." He tells Jai quietly, knowing that Jai will understand that he means the fighting and the killing the Mistress asks of her rabid dog.

Jai reaches out to pet a hand over Bran's cheek, his fingertips curl and pet at one of his ears. "You are a very good dog. Our Mistress is pleased with you. Our Mistress loves you as she loves all of us. She has much on her mind as of late. Perhaps this latest fight could have been passed over, but she so enjoys watching you win."

"Did you win?" Dare asks.

Did he? Bran can't really tell anymore. It doesn't feel like he won. "I think so."

"You made it to the final match and beat that opponent as well?" Jai asks.

Bran nods.

"Then you won for your Mistress, Bran. You are a good dog."

He won. He pleased his Mistress. So where did he go wrong?

"I want to clean your wounds." Jai says, reaching for one of the many first aide kits always on hand. While Lily continues to use her fingers to flip Bran's hair out, Jai removes bandages and tends Bran's many wounds.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Bran asks. It's directed at all of them, not just one.

"You one of us." Lily says.

Dare shrugs. "You're pretty to look at. I'd like to keep you around, I guess."

Bran glares at Dare.

Dare grins upon seeing Bran's glare. "There you are. I'm sure you have a few choice words to send my way. Maybe they rhyme with duck stew?"

That makes Bran actually grin. The smile hits him hard and fast, unexpected in every way. He can't remember the last time he smiled at all. The grin feels strange on his lips. "Fuck you."

"That's it! I knew you'd say that, handsome." Dare teases with a wink. "You know you just wanna kiss me all over."

Bran has never gone back and forth with Dare before. It's so easy right now. He wonders if it's always been this easy, he just hasn't let himself do it. Maybe some of Bran's solitude has been his own fault. "Think it's you who wants me to kiss you, dipshit."

"Oh ho! Is that it? I don't know. Kind of hard to tell which way the attraction goes, two pretty pets like you and me." Dare says, practically preening as he pulls his nails through his hair. "What do you think, Lily? Who wants to kiss who?"

"Dare, you always want to kiss others." Lily says. "So kiss him."

"Not _always_." Dare is only jokingly defensive. "Just if they're hot."

"Always." Both Jai and Lily says together.

"You gonna let me kiss you, Bran?"

Bran glances at Jai, back to Dare. "I don't wanna hurt you." All Bran does is hurt. He isn't sure how to be any different than that. Maybe he's always been this without even realizing it, even before the Gallery. Pain is Bran. Bran is pain.

"You can without hurting." Lily says.

Jai seems to hesitate a moment. This is edging along the line of going against what their Mistress has taught Bran. Finally he nods. "Yes, you can. Hold your lips still and let Dare kiss you. Just feel the kiss."

"Oh now, this is damn near romantic." Dare says, leaning in and gently brushing his lips over Bran's.

Bran holds still, trying so damn hard not to bare his teeth, growl and latch on. He fails on one front. He growls. He doesn't even really realize that he's doing it until Lily is rubbing a hand over his back and shushing him. He makes himself stop growling.

"Now allow Dare's kiss to guide you. Mimic his kiss." Jai says.

Lily adds, "Careful. Gentle."

Bran tries, of course. But 'careful' and 'gentle' have been removed from his vocabulary. Bran is pain. Pain is Bran. His teeth catch Dare's bottom lip and he tastes blood.

Dare flinches and pulls back only a little bit. He brings his fingertips up to his lips and they come away crimson. "It's okay. It's okay, Bran."

It's not okay. He hurt Dare, a man who wouldn't hurt a fly, a man who it's so hard not to love. When Bran looks like he might cry again, Dare grins and leans in to kiss him once more. Bran laps his tongue against the wound on Dare's lips, trying to heal it.

"It's okay." Dare whispers again. "Kiss me, handsome."

Bran kisses Dare again, trying to mimic Dare and feeling completely inadequate at it. His teeth occasionally touch skin and Bran pulls back from hurting him. When did kissing like normal people do become so hard? Probably when people started getting shot in the head when Bran tried to think and act like a normal person would.

Normal is hard for Bran now. He's been told to 'make it hurt' too many times by this point. If he doesn't cause pain there are always consequences.

"Bran." Dare holds a hand to each side of Bran's face, carefully manicured and painted nails gently slide over Bran's jaw line. "You're too much in your own head, man. Someday maybe we can get you outta there."

Lily wraps her arms around Bran's shoulders and leans in to kiss his cheek. "We take care of you. You keep us safe."

Those words nestle their way into Bran's heart. He thought no one noticed how he watches and learns. He's so far removed from being the kind of hero he used to be. That anyone else has noticed that he keeps watch is a surprise to him.

There are all kinds of heroes. Maybe Bran isn't who and what he used to be. That doesn't mean he isn't still keeping watch, guarding and protecting people in his own way. Even in this skewed world where right is wrong and wrong is right, Bran is still trying to do the right thing as much as he can without earning a death sentence for himself.

Bran is still a survivor. He's still a fighter.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Over the next several weeks there are no more dog fights. The harem isn't called into the Gallery room for a dinner party and showing. Names are called to please the Mistress on an individual basis as usual, but other than that, the harem is ignored for the most part.

The overall feeling of the house is tense. Bran is reminded of the pressure cooker when his mom used to make beans for dinner.

Much of the harem thinks it business as usual. For Bran, however, who pays attention and notices things, it's hard to ignore the tense, whispered conversations between the guards. It's hard not to notice Jai's worried look. Jai, who the Mistress confides in more than she does with anyone.

Bran is closer to Jai than the others. Jai has always watched Bran, made sure that he doesn't hurt anyone. Jai knows all of the things that the Mistress has asked of him and still isn't afraid of him. Maybe because Jai isn't afraid, neither are Lily and Dare.

Since the fight where Bran came back a broken thing, the three of them have given him an influx of interaction and attention. Bran has started giving it back to them.

He feels more human than he has in some time because of a man with breasts, a tiny waifish woman with silver white hair and a tall slim man with skin as dark as night. These people are family to Bran. They're a strength to him. He's fully aware that they're also a weakness if just because he gives a damn.

When his name is called several weeks later, Bran walks out into the hallway to find Yani with his leash. He gets down on all fours and Yani hooks the leash to Bran's collar. His guard pets at his ears and combs his fingers through Bran's hair.

Yani's hand cups under Bran's chin to tilt his head up so they can look each other in the eyes. Yani grins wickedly. "You look much better, pet. I see Jai has done as he was told and taken good care of you."

What? Jai only helped Bran out because he was _told_ to help him? Fuck that shit.

Bran's eyes narrow. Yani stands and leads Bran through the hallways to the parlor. The Mistress is sitting in the room with a group of other people. Bran yips at her and crawls over to the pallet next to her chair where he sits down. His leash is handed off to her.

"I still think we should relocate all the major houses." One man says.

"It would be safer, but it would also take a lot of work. Also, there would be a time period when we would be more vulnerable than is comfortable."

"We have the means. I think it is time. We cannot continue business as usual when we know that government factions all over the world are somehow getting intelligence from inside our operations."

"In that case, we not only need to relocate, we need to re-vet everyone in our employ, thousands of people."

People that Bran has already killed whether they were guilty or not. Bran tries very hard to glare straight ahead, not to look interested in the conversation at all. It's difficult though. No wonder things here have been so tense. His Mistress isn't paranoid. There are actually foxes in the hen house.

His Mistress's nails scratch lightly at his scalp, combing through his hair. Bran instinctively leans into the touch just as a dog would. "I do not know how to find out who is giving them information. We employ too many. Perhaps we should reduce the scale of the Gallery for some time. Perhaps we should take time to weed out those who are disloyal to us."

"Reducing our scale means reducing our income."

"We're not necessarily hurting for money."

"I like the money we make."

"Reducing our scale could also keep us out of jail."

"Agreed."

"Along with relocating all the main houses."

"It's quite the endeavor, relocation of a dozen houses."

"And what about the pets we all have in our care?"

The group falls silent. All eyes turn on Bran. Bran glares straight ahead. There's something that they're all thinking and not saying. Bran doesn't like the implications left in the unspoken. He's glad when their attention goes back to one another.

"The merchandise would need transplanting too. Once again, thousands."

"Perhaps... we should start fresh in that regard."

Again, the group falls silent, thoughtful. Bran is confronted with the horrible reality of what 'start fresh' really means. Mass murder of people abducted from their homes, people being 'trained' to be pets and slaves and whatever else, people they call merchandise.

_Holy shit._

Bran makes himself breathe slowly, keep his heart rate low and slow. Triggering the thing in his neck right now would suck.

"That might be the easiest way to go about it."

And just like that, the fates of thousands of people world-wide is decided. How can something like that happen so easily right here in this room? Who are these people? They have to be the people in charge of the Gallery. His Mistress included, Bran counts six people, four men and two women.

"I can speak with our contractors and get pricing and locations for the new houses."

"Cleaning house could be one of the tests of loyalty for the guards."

"We should leave the Brutes in each house be. It's difficult to find men like them. They never come up from the basements. There's no way they could be the moles."

"Anyone who has arguments to this plan should speak now."

The room is agonizingly silent. Bran wants to scream. He wants to knock heads together. He wants...

"Then it's decided. Now, I could use more wine."

The Mistress snaps her fingers and a naked woman brings a bottle of wine over to top off glasses.

"Is this the dog who won all those fights?"

"It is." His Mistress nods, fingers still idly curling in Bran's shoulder length locks. "His name is Bran."

One of the men leans forward to get a closer look at Bran. "I've heard all about him. You did well training him."

Everyone is always congratulating the Mistress on training him. Really, it was Yani and Malcolm and Stephen who did the training. Really, Bran was destroyed in the Catacombs to begin his training. The Mistress reaped the benefits without doing any of the work.

Fuck these people, congratulating one another on destroying people, on destroying Bran himself. Right is wrong. Wrong is right. Bran bares his teeth and growls.

This only serves to make the man smile. "Oh, I like him. I'd take him if you ever tired of him."

"I would not tire of any of my harem." The Mistress says. "But of course, there is always a price."

Again, the Mistress is willing to part with him, to let another have him, fuck him, use him, for a price. Bran isn't surprised this time. The sting isn't so harsh as the last time. His Mistress is a fickle creature, he's learned. He's also learned that while she demands his loyalty, her loyalty is conditional.

Fuck the Mistress.

"Perhaps we could just have a demonstration for now."

"Would you like to feel his teeth on your cock?"

"Dangerous, is it not?"

"Therein lies the fun. Don't you think?"

There's a private challenge in the words. The man finally nods and leans back in his seat, unclasping his belt and opening his fly.

The Mistress leans down to speak quietly into Bran's ear. "You will please him as you have been trained to do. Make me proud, my pet."

Bran barks and crawls forward to the man exposing himself. Pants are pushed down to the knees and Bran once again bares his teeth and growls at the man.

A hand grips Bran's chin and lifts to bring Bran's gaze up. For a moment they just look at one another. The man is tanned with brown hair, a beard and long hair pulled back into a bun. His eyes are green. He has high cheekbones and a pointed nose.

Those fingers stroke at Bran's chin. Bran glares. The man winks at him and then nods, letting go of Bran's chin.

Whatever just happened between himself and this man throws Bran off kilter. He doesn't like seeing anything akin to kindness in the eyes of monsters. By Bran's way of thinking, everyone in this room is a monster. Whatever he saw in this man's eyes feels at odds with that. He feels unsettled.

"It's okay, Bran. That's a good dog." The man says. Then he addresses the Mistress. "I like everything about him, his shaggy hair and his eyes. His lips are inviting."

"His body isn't terrible to look at either." The other woman in the room says. "That ass. Those abs."

"He is beautiful." His Mistress says, her smile clear in her tone.

Were they really just talking about killing thousands of innocent people. Bran could almost believe he'd imagined it now, except that his mind is broken, not twisted. He heard the casual talk of mass murder.

His teeth latch on to the inside of the man's thigh. Bran bites hard enough to break skin, growling and shaking his head with the skin between his teeth. Then he laps up the man's sac with tiny flicks of his tongue over skin. He lets his teeth scrape lightly over the skin there too. The man smells of musky cologne or body wash.

The man chuckles low. "Lovely. I can see that your pleasure comes with an edge. Good dog."

As the man addresses his Mistress again, Bran takes his hard, thick cock into his mouth. "I'm sure that if I were your enemy he would bite it off."

"That he would, and worse." The Mistress says.

"Then I'm glad we're amicable at a minimum, even if we don't always agree on the fine print of things." The man's fingertips pet against the scruff at the hollow of Bran's cheeks as he sucks him off.

When Bran adds the light scrape of teeth, the man seems to grin and hold his breath. Bran likes that. He likes feeling dangerous. He likes feeling like people like this are scared of him, even a little bit. He's so intent on this that he barely notices another man lining up behind him until he hears the unbuckling of a belt and a fly unzipping.

Fuck.

The plug is pulled from his ass and Bran lifts his head and turns back to growl and bark. The man in front of him brings him back with a press of fingers to his cheek. Bran is looking into green eyes, greeted with that strange thing that makes this man look like the opposite of a monster. Cock is pushed inside of him and Bran hates that his upgrades still make that feel so damn good.

"Finish me, Bran." The green-eyed man says.

Bran takes cock into his mouth again and continues his blow job even as he's being fucked from behind. It's hard to focus on anything but this. Eventually Bran gives himself over to it. He lets himself feel it. He gives in the way that he knows he's supposed to. Bran is good at this by this point.

The green-eyed man cums in his mouth and Bran swallows it down. The man urges him to rest his cheek against his thigh while he's fucked. Bran does this, letting the man pet his fingers through his hair and inhaling the scent of musk while he's being fucked by another.

Bran cums at some point. Unless told otherwise, he's always been allowed to cum when he wants. Once his ass is filled with the other man's cum, he's ready to go lay on his pallet again.

"My turn." The other woman in the room says. "Bring that puppy dog mouth over here."

The man behind him slaps a hand against Bran's ass. "After you clean the floor up."

After Bran licks up his own cum, his Mistress has him please the others in the room, everyone but his Mistress.

 

* * *

 

Bran dreams of green eyes that night, eyes that have a strange kindness to them. Maybe they stand out because of that very thing. It's been so long since Bran has seen a person outside of the harem with eyes that aren't calculating and cruel. It makes no sense given the conversation he was privy to.

Over the next week it's all Bran can think about. The Mistress is going to exterminate everyone in the basement, in the labs. Does that include the harem? Bran doesn't know. He just knows that something's coming, something big.

He starts looking at everyone in a new light; the maids who come in to clean the room, the guards at the door. Are they the moles? Do they have links to any government? Everyone just seems tense to him.

He watches the guards closely for any sign that they're going to aim the weapons they have and fire. Bran won't let that happen, not if he can help it. The people in this room won't be exterminated so easily. He'll stop it or die trying.

Nothing ever happens.

Names aren't called to please the Mistress.

There are no dog fights.

There are no gallery showings.

The harem wakes, bathes, grooms, eats and sleeps.

Nothing. Happens.

...until the day when a group of guards burst through the door and aim.

Bran stands up, barks and growls. He'll stop it or die trying.

_It's a good day to die._


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

The Mistress steps into the room through the line of guards holding weapons in the direction of the harem. The pets kneel in a line for their Mistress at the edge of their pallet. Bran hates that they kneel there and just wait, looking up at her with such trust and love.

She looks directly at Bran, the only one standing.

Bran can't kneel. He can't let himself. This looks too much like a firing squad and these people have been programmed not to fight back, all of them except Bran. Bran has been trained to fight. Fighting is all he knows. It's the only thing he's good at. He can't just kneel and take it.

Instead, he moves to stand between the line of pets and the Mistress and her armed guard. Someone whispers his name from behind him, he thinks it's Dare. Bran doesn't listen.

He stands there between executioners and the innocent and glares at their Mistress.

She smiles wickedly at him. She almost looks proud of him.

"I am about to test your loyalty, pets." She says, gaze trained on Bran. "Who among you would die for me? Who among you would die without me?"

A few of the pets crawl toward the Mistress. Bran shakes his head at them. "No." He says. "No, don't."

A snap of her fingers and the shots fire. The pets that crawled forward are shot dead. The guards are trained marksmen, their aim doesn't miss. The death of these pets is instant.

Bran has to fight hard to keep his breathing even, to stay calm enough to keep the device in his neck from triggering. He steps back and shakes his head, looks up to her. "Mistress, please. Don't do this."

There's movement out of the corner of his eye and he sees Jai crawling forward. Not Jai. No. Not Jai. "Fuck. No! Jai!" Bran goes to him and wraps himself around him, shielding him from the guns. He looks wildly back to the Mistress. "He loves you. We all love you. Please don't."

Seeing Jai, Bran can swear that he sees some emotion in the Mistress's eyes. She may be willing to kill most of the harem. Where Jai is concerned, she has actual feelings for him. Maybe that's what spares him. Maybe that's what spares those that don't crawl forward.

Jai speaks to her over Bran's shoulder. "Mistress. I would die for you."

"I know you would, my pet. But I cannot keep you right now." She swallows hard and tears her eyes away from where Bran shields Jai. "I cannot keep any of you right now. If you would prefer to die, now is the time."

Two more slaves crawl forward. Weak. Manipulated and psychologically altered. Innocent. No question. No hesitation. They're killed. Their death is immediate and final. Some of their blood spatters on Bran's thigh, on the back of one of his hands.

_Why?_

Bran wants to scream. Bran has to focus on staying calm, on keeping as many alive as possible.

"But why, Mistress?" Jai asks. "Have we not served you well? Are you displeased with us?"

She doesn't answer Jai. "Anyone else?"

"Mistress! Kill me!" Jai is crying, trying to break free of Bran.

Maybe it's selfish to keep Jai here with him, to take this choice away from him, but he can't be assed to care right now about what's fair and what's not. Right is wrong. Wrong is right.

It would break something intrinsic to Bran to see Jai, out of any of them, gunned down right now. Jai, who has never been afraid of Bran, who knows all of the horrible things Bran has done and still holds him at night, who cared for Bran when he needed it most even if it was something he was ordered to do.

So yes, Bran is being selfish. He's surviving. He's fighting. He's being his own hero.

Bran is stronger than Jai and keeps him from crawling forward to his own execution. He's seen a lot of messed up things here in the gallery. He's seen their Mistress do a lot of horrible things. But this. This is a special kind of sick and twisted manipulation. A manipulation of the manipulated.

"No, Jai. No." Bran says. He dips his head and latches his teeth onto Jai's shoulder. His bite breaks skin and Bran tastes blood. It startles Jai enough to hold him in place.

"Be glad that the decision to remain alive has been given to you. It was not my initial plan." The Mistress tells the remaining group. "You will all do as the guards instruct."

With that, the Mistress turns to leave without a backward glance in their direction. Jai is sobbing, calling after her. The guards come in and start hooking chains to their collars.

"I got him." Dare says, coming over to Bran to help him with Jai. "Let me help, Bran."

"What is happening?" Lily whispers, linking her arm with Bran's as if he can do a damn thing to keep her, or any of them, safe.

"The Gallery is going belly up, that's what's happening." Bran says quietly.

The group that's left is led out by connected chains at their necks. They're led through a labyrinth of hallways, Bran and Dare on either side of Jai, practically carrying him, and Lily beside Bran. Bran looks back behind them to make sure the others are with them as well.

The garage they're taken to is massive, a sports car of every flavor. The back of a transport truck is rolled up. The pets are hefted up into the bay one by one.

Bran puts Lily next to Jai and then pretends to lose his balance. When he's play-acted at regaining his balance, he helps lift Lily up to Dare in the back of the truck.

Dare gives him a strange look when something exchanges hands. Then he nods. Bran helps with the others, including Jai, then he hefts himself up into the back of the truck.

None of the guards get in with them. The door is pulled shut and locked. The cab of the truck descends into a pitch black darkness where Bran can't even see his own hand in front of his face.

Pets settle onto the floor of the truck.

"Jai? Lily?" Bran asks.

"They're over here." That's Dare's voice.

Bran crawls along the floor until he feels Lily's soft hair. Dare reaches for Bran's hand and puts Jai's hand in Bran's. Bran nestles in between Lily and Jai, one arm around Jai's shoulders and the other around Lily's.

"Where we go?" Lily asks.

"I don't know." Bran says. "But we're gonna be okay. You got the knife, Dare?"

"Right here." Dare says. "Don't know how the hell you did that. Smooth though... kinda hot, actually." Those words add some levity to a tense situation.

The truck engine comes to life and the vehicle starts moving.

"Hold onto it." Bran says. "I can do a helluva lot of damage with a knife."

"Sweetie," Dare says. "From where I'm sittin', you don't need a knife to do any damage. You're good at that all on your own."

"Fuck you, Dare."

Dare smirks. Bran smirks too.

 

* * *

 

It's hard to hear anything over the roar of the engine, but Bran tries anyway. He tries to hear anything that says there's a city outside. In the end he can't tell one way or another. In the end, the sounds inside override the sounds outside.

Jai is crying and it breaks Bran's heart. Maybe he should have let him crawl forward to his death. Maybe he did the wrong thing. Those poor pets that were so broken they couldn't think of a life outside of the Gallery, those that crawled forward and knew they were choosing death. Bran can still feel their blood on his skin. His skin is always covered in blood.

No, Bran did the right thing in stopping Jai. He'll help Jai get right in the head, eventually, once he figures out where they're going.

"So how long have you known about this?" Dare asks.

"Not as long as Jai has known about it." Bran says.

The truth is just a few weeks, since that meeting where they'd planned the executions. But something changed. Something made the Mistress give them options. Bran knows that the options only extended to the harem. The people in the Catacombs and the Labs were probably killed.

He can't think too much about that right now or it'll drive him crazy. He can't think about the pets in the harem, shot dead right there in front of him. He saved Jai. He saved Jai. He saved Jai.

Jai is crying. Some of the other pets are crying. Those sniffles and sobs are the only thing right now in this saturated darkness.

"Bran?"

"Dare?"

"I'm kind of freaked out right now."

"Understandable."

"They shot our friends. Were they gonna shoot us too?"

"I think so. But something changed."

"What changed?"

"I don't fucking know, Dare. I'm as confused as you."

"I didn't say I was confused. I said I was freaked out."

"I'm freaked out too."

"Okay, good. Cause I don't want to be the only one." Dare says. "I can't believe you stood up when she came in. That was bad ass."

Bran smirks and shakes his head. That was him fighting. "That's what she trained me to do."

 

* * *

 

The ride is long and bumpy in some places. All of the pets pile into a heap and sleep for a good portion of it just as they would have on the large pallet in the harem room.

Bran doesn't sleep. He holds Jai just as Jai used to hold him. He tries to stay focused on the situation at hand. He tries to stay calm. He tries not to think about things that he can't do anything about.

There are eight of them left; Bran, Lily, Jai and Dare, the twins named Kyle and JB, a pet named Kara and one named Timber. Bran wants to keep all of them alive but he knows that that might be easier said than done. The power is not in their hands. Fate is not on their side. Bran's going to have to fight.

At one point the van finally comes to a stop. Bran untangles himself from the harem and feels around the floor for the knife he'd stolen from a leg holster of one of the guards. It's too dark to really see, but he crawls over to the door and presses his ear to it. He hears nothing.

Bran waits. He listens and he waits.

He thinks he hears voices at some point and decides against calling out to them just yet. It's probably the drivers. He hears car doors slam, an engine, and then nothing. Were they just left here?

"Oh fuck..." He whispers.

"Are we in trouble?"

It's Dare again, Bran looks back toward the sound of his voice in the dark. He shakes his head before he remembers that none of them can see anything, let alone one another. "I don't know."

He hooks his fingers in a handle at the bottom of the door and tries to pull up. The cargo door doesn't budge. Again, he presses an ear to the door and listens. There's nothing.

Bran sits down by the door with his back to the wall of the truck and exhales a heavy breath. He has to stay calm. He has to stay present. He has to fight and keep these people alive.

Dare sits down next to him, their shoulders pressed together. It's easy to tell that Dare is still seriously freaked out, looking for reassurance from anybody, because of his silence. Dare usually has such a hard time being silent. Dare will usually fill any silence with rambling.

Bran leans closer to Dare, pressing their shoulders together. "Hey." He whispers. "We'll be okay. I'll figure it out."

"Yeah." Dare says. "We're a bunch of naked people in the back of a truck wearing chains and collars. The truck has stopped. We're locked in. Most of us don't know left from right anymore outside of the Mistress." Dare pauses. "She's supposed to take care of us. But look at us. Look at what she did to the others, letting the guards shoot them like that..."

Dare continues. "She did this to me, I think, took my memories. Look at what she did to you. Jai told us she made you kill."

Bran reaches out to rest a hand on Dare's knee. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"I know. That's not what I'm sayin'." Dare sighs. "I'm sayin' that if anybody can figure this out, it's you. None of us are able to make decisions for ourselves anymore, but I'll follow your lead and I'll help you if I can."

Follow Bran's lead? Bran is not a leader. Bran needs a Master now every bit as much as the rest of them do. He's just as lost out here without the Mistress as they are. He's flying blind. And yet... he's more alive right now than he has been in a long time.

For Dare, he says none of this. Instead, "Thanks. I'll try to steer you right."

Bran feels Dare's strong hands at his chin, turning his head, then Dare's lips are on his. Bran doesn't fight it. He's kissed Dare a lot of times. He's done more than kissing with Dare. But now, he kisses him back. His teeth catch skin and he tries not to make Dare bleed.

"You're still an asshole." Bran says.

"So are you." Dare tosses back.

They kiss again.

It's some time later that they're both sitting in the same spot. The harem is still resting on the other side of the truck. Bran hears a car engine, maybe more than one, and presses his ear to the door again.

"What is it?" Dare whispers.

Bran baps Dare's arm with the backs of his knuckles and shushes him. He listens to the sound of car doors, voices. It's all so muffled, it's hard to hear.

"Get back." Bran gets up onto his feet, onto all fours, ready to pounce. His hand white-knuckles the hilt of his knife. Dare is right behind him. The harem is stirring behind them. Jai has started crying again and Lily is trying to comfort him.

Breathe in - one... two... three... Breathe out - three... two... one...

After nothingness for so long, the sound of the metal lock is almost too loud. It echoes in Bran's mind, reverberates in his soul. This is it. This is his moment. It's nothing like the movies. This moment of heroics is tilted sideways, warped, blurred and fashioned by the Art Gallery.

He's every bit the rabid dog.

The rolling door is pulled up and Bran leaps out, tackling the first person he sees and knocking him to the ground. Bran is growling and barking down at a man with blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. The blade is pressed to his neck.

"I should have expected this, I suppose." The man says calmly. His hands are palm out to the other men in the room, indicating that they should stay back. "I'm fine. We're fine."

This isn't at all the reaction Bran had thought to get. He barks again. He growls.

"I'm here to help you." The man says. "Do you remember Derek? He is mine. I'm here to help you."

"Derek... our Derek?" Dare asks from somewhere behind Bran.

"Yes, he was in the Mistress's harem with you. Now I am his Master. He cares about you and that is why I'm here." The blue-eyed man says. "My name is Mikael. I'm here to help all of you."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

"My name is Mikael. I'm here to help all of you."

Bran stares at the man, his mind flashing to the former guard that he'd mercy killed to save him from the Catacombs. That guard said he was trying to help too. Bran's mind is a jumble of thoughts and he's having to work very hard to straighten them out. 

The man beneath him gently presses his hand to Bran's wrist and guides the knife away from his neck. Bran lets him. He invoked Derek's name, after all.

"I know you're frightened. I commend you for your act of bravery just now but I am not your enemy." Mikael says. "I'm going to take care of you."

"Where's Derek?" Bran hates that his voice sounds small and weak just now.

"Derek is safe." Mikael puts both hands around Bran's fist where he holds tightly to the knife. "Let go of the knife. You're safe now. Let go of the knife."

The man's voice leaves no room for argument. It's commanding and yet somehow soft as well. It's the voice of a man who knows he doesn't have to raise his voice for his commands to be followed.

Bran's fingers slowly uncurl around the hilt.

Mikael takes the knife and offers it up to another man. "Thank you. Now what is your name?"

When Bran doesn't answer, Dare's fingers press to Bran's shoulder. "Bran, come on. Get up."

He hasn't even realized he's still straddling the man's waist. Bran stands up with Dare and backs away.

"I'm Dare. This is Bran." Dare says, then he proceeds to introduce the others.

The other men, guards, it seems, help Mikael up to his feet. Mikael straightens his suit and dusts himself off. "A pleasure to meet all of you."

The guards start helping the other pets out of the van. Bran goes back to Jai. Jai leans against him and Bran holds tight. Bran worries over each pet as they're helped down.

"He was the Mistress's dog." Bran hears Mikael say. "I remember him. Let him look after them. Every domesticated dog has its people. These are his."

He's not wrong.

They're ushered into a limousine of all things. A group of naked people all sliding in and huddling together on the floor rather than in the seats. Bran herds them in and then settles next to Jai. In his mind, Bran counts heads instead of his usual counting up and down from three.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

His index finger tap-tap-taps against his knee.

"I thought there were more of you." Mikael says.

"There were more, Sir." Lily answers with a nod, her fingers pulling idly through Dare's hair.

Bran is sure he sees a darkness in Mikael's eyes, a sad understanding. They didn't all make it. Some of them are still a little iffy. Even Bran is having to work hard to stay afloat.

Jai is crying again. So is another one of the pets, Kara. Timber holds onto Kara, looking on the edge of tears herself. JB and Kyle hold hands. Both twins look shell-shocked. They're a group of traumatized pets all trying to exist beyond a world where the floor just fell from beneath them.

They all loved the Mistress in their own ways. They all lived to please her. Now what?

"Sir." Bran says, looking to Mikael. "May I speak?"

"You may." Mikael nods.

"What's gonna happen to our Mistress?"

"That depends on whether or not she's found and arrested." Mikael pulls a cigarette case from the inside breast pocket of his suit coat and gets a brown cigarette to light up. From the scent of it, it's a clove. "None of us knew that the FBI and various other world government organizations were so close. I know that this is somewhat of a shock to you. It's a surprise to all of us, I assure you."

"And Derek is wherever you're taking us, Sir?" Bran asks.

"Derek is in DC, his home from before. Unfortunately, one of the under cover agents within the Gallery was given to me with Derek. We had to move quickly." Mikael takes a healthy drag from his cigarette. "When I got in contact with your Mistress and she informed me of her plan to exterminate and start fresh, well... I knew that would break Derek's heart. He cares for you."

Derek is not with Mikael. The Mistress did plan to exterminate all of them. This man saved them for Derek. Bran counts heads again to help himself stay calm. He has to stay calm. He has to stay present.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

With his breathing slowed, he asks one more question. "Where are we going, Sir?"

"We're going to take care of some of my business, and then we'll go from there." Mikael says. "I promise all of you that I will take care of you. Eventually, we'll be with Derek again. I'll make a way for that to happen."

The way Mikael says this, Bran could believe the man could order the sun to stop shining and the world would go dark. Yes, so far Bran thinks he could follow this man. And if Bran follows him, the others will follow Bran. Bran is not a leader no matter how much Dare thinks he is, but he can pretend to be one.

The limousine takes them to an airstrip. They're all ushered onto what seems to be a private plane. Bran takes note of the fact that the Mistress's is bigger. He hates that he takes note of that. One of the guards unlocks the chains from their collars and then they huddle in together on the floor. Bran sits in front, watching everyone move about the plane, learning what he can.

Mikael is on the phone when he finally sits near the pets. Bran listens.

"Derek Morgan. I can't be in contact with them until I know it's safe. I was hoping you could check to make sure..., yes. They have you helping some of the recovered pets? That's beneficial to me. Yes, I'm always looking out for me and mine. You already know that about me."

Mikael lights up a cigarette again. The plane cabin starts to smell of spices. "I'm well aware that you owe me a favor. I did train you and introduce you to your wife, after all." Mikael laughs at something. "I don't think he'll be with the general population. He was different. He was FBI. Yes, Gray, I would appreciate that. If you could maneuver yourself into his life and help him, I would appreciate it even more. Yes, he's... been through a lot."

There's a silence here as Mikael listens and smokes. "You really think someone like me could start over?" Another silence. "Yes, but I've always been my father's son. I admit that it's difficult to see myself in any other way."

Mikael laughs. "How right you are. Our fathers were peas in a pod. Gray, I'm asking you to look after something that is very precious to me." There's a pause and a nod here. "Keep me updated? Of course, confidentiality, my apologies. You don't have to tell me everything. I just want to know that he's... yes. I'll be in touch."

For awhile Mikael sits in silence and smokes after the call ends. He looks sad. He looks like a man who just needs a moment to be sad. Bran can understand that. The second Bran eventually lets his guard down, he isn't sure what's going to happen. Bran just studies this man. He'd called Derek his most precious thing. What must it be like to be that to someone? Bran wants to be that. How does someone get another Master or Mistress or want them and only them that much?

The other pets rest on the floor together, all piled together for comfort and warmth. Bran sits with his back to the seats and holds Jai close. Jai hasn't said a word. But he's crying again. Eventually, much later, Jai finally sleeps. Bran stays awake and watches people around him. Bran stands guard like any good dog would.

 

* * *

 

They end up in a grandiose house in the country-side somewhere. There's forested land as far as the eye can see and a definite chill in the air that promises snow. The house would have a cottage feel to it if it weren't so massive. The inside is comfortable and homey, but well kept. There are paintings and figurines of horses everywhere.

The pets are taken to a room that's like any bedroom. Mikael offers them separate rooms but they want to stay together. Mikael assures them that he'll design a room more to their liking soon. Then they're left alone.

Bran turns back to count heads, his fingertips tapping against his knuckles. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

"So that's Derek's Master." Dare says to fill the silence. Of course it's Dare who has to fill it up. "He's hot in an unapproachable kind of way. So what do you think will happen to us? Will he sell us off? Cause I wanna keep us together."

"When our Mistress comes for us, she will want all of us together."

Everyone in the room looks at Jai. It's the first thing he's said since they were led from the harem room at the Mistress's compound. None of them say anything to that. They all know that the Mistress is not coming for them. None of them have the heart to say that to Jai though.

Finally, Bran nods. "We're staying together. We'll do whatever we have to to stay together."

"Bran?" Lily steps toward Bran.

"What?"

One of the twins reaches for one of Bran's hands. "You're shaking."

_Fuck._

He hadn't even noticed. Bran's hands are shaking. He can't breathe. He counts heads. One, two, three, four, five.... It's too late for that. The electric shock is quick and harsh. Bran whines as his knees buckle. JB and Dare catch him to ease his fall to the floor.

"Breathe, handsome. Come on. Breathe." Dare says.

Bran makes himself breathe in - one... two... three... And out - three... two... one... Again and again until the world and himself quit trembling and aching. Every muscle aches. All of the pets except Jai and Kara descend around him, holding him, comforting him.

His people, Mikael had called them. Yes, these are his people. He's their dog, their loyal companion, their protector. Bran has to keep from triggering the device in his neck. He has to stay calm, for them, for himself.

"I'm sorry." He whispers.

"Shut up." Dare says.

Lily kisses him while JB pets his hand over Bran's abdomen as if he were rubbing the belly of a dog that has rolled over.

"It is okay, Bran. You keep us safe. We take care of you too." Lily says.

Bran closes his eyes as he feels someone take his cock into their mouth. He feels Lily's soft lips against his own. Hands touch him everywhere. One hand bends one of his legs up so that they can play with the plug in his ass.

This has never happened before. Bran has been in on some of the orgies with Jai as a filter, but the attention has never been on him. He isn't sure what to do with it. Bran defaults to a soft growl that rumbles so deep in his chest that it might as well be a purr.

Lily smiles against his lips. "You very good dog, Bran. Let us ease some of your worries." She says.

"Let us do what we know how to do." Timber adds. "We need this too."

Bran lets them. They don't complain when his nails scratch at skin. They don't complain when his teeth catch skin. They don't complain when his hold is so tight it leaves bruises. They don't complain when he whines as he reaches orgasm.

Once he's recovered, he rolls to his side to help the next person achieve the same, and the next, and the next...

They all need this. Even Bran. And now, Bran is more a part of it than he's ever been. He's not alone.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

That first night, food is brought into their room on trays by a handful of house staff. It's set on the floor just as it would have been in the harem room and they're left to their own. Each of them picks their meal and drink and has their fill. The food is freshly cooked, warm and good. Bran hasn't realized how hungry he was until the food is in front of him.

Once he's finished eating he goes over to Jai to make sure he eats, sometimes hand feeding him to get the food from the plate to his mouth. Bran isn't losing anyone, especially not Jai.

It's only after the dishes have been removed that Mikael enters the room again. The man has discarded his suit coat and his tie. The cuffs of his dress shirt are rolled up to mid forearm.

Bran is kneeling just a little bit in front of the others. He watches Mikael take a seat in a plush chair and cross one leg over the other. Those blue eyes study each and every one of them as he lights a cigarette. In the end, Mikael's gaze settles on Bran, maybe because Bran is the one who looks back at him.

Bran glares at Mikael and waits.

This glare seems to amuse Mikael. "Is there anything any of you need?"

"We want to stay together, Sir." Bran says after waiting a moment to see if any of the others speak up. None of them do. None of them are accustomed to being asked what they need. But Bran isn't going to let the opportunity for open dialogue to pass him by. He needs answers. "We don't wanna be sold off separately."

"I wouldn't dream of separating you, not unless that separation is your choice."

Okay, that makes Bran feel a little bit better. And maybe he imagines it, but he thinks he feels the others breathe a collective sigh of relief.

"What is this place? Are you keeping us? Are you our Master now?"

Again, Mikael seems amused with Bran's boldness. "This is my late brother's home. It was my father's before then. Now it is mine. I will keep you safe for as long as you wish it. I am not your Master. However, since I am _a_ Master, I would appreciate your respect in all things. We will be staying here for some time. Other Masters under my employ will be joining us. Eventually, we will be living in the states, all of us together."

Bran looks highly doubtful about that. His expression turns skeptical and Mikael chuckles.

"You question me."

"I do, Sir."

"Why?"

"Because we're pets with no one to serve. Look at us. We don't fit out there. How in the hell are you gonna keep us all together without having to explain yourself to someone?" Bran shakes his head. "Normal people can't..." He has no idea how to finish that sentence.

"Who says I'm normal?" Mikael counters.

That argument gives Bran pause. The man said he employed Masters. So he runs some kind of business having to do with Masters and pets. "You say you're Derek's Master? Prove it."

"And how am I to prove that in his absence?" Mikael takes a drag from his cigarette and then pulls his cell phone out. He swipes through some screens and then stands and turns the phone to face Bran and the others. Bran can feel the rest of the harem leaning in behind him.

It's a photo of Derek on the beach with his hand in Mikael's. Derek is facing Mikael and he's smiling. He's smiling like Bran has never seen him smile before.

"Damn, he's hot." Dare says from behind Bran.

Mikael smiles and brings the phone back to look at the photo himself. Those ice blue eyes seem to soften and he nods. "Yes, he's beautiful... and he's mine."

Once Mikael has put his phone away again, he looks over the other pets. "Now, what else do all of you need? I can get you anything within reason."

"We be allowed to shower, Sir?" Lily asks.

"Yes, I understand that you can do that yourself. The bathroom is right there."

"May we have lubricant, Sir?" JB asks.

"I can get you that." Mikael taps on his phone again, presumably to start a list.

"Makeup and nail polish, Sir." Dare says. "I have to keep my fabulousness fabulous."

That makes Mikael smile again and he nods. "Yes, of course. I wouldn't want any of you to quit being fabulous."

"A toy..." The words are out of Bran's mouth before he can think to stop them. But when asked what he wants, it's the only thing he really misses, the only thing he can think that he would like to have. "I mean it's... stupid."

Mikael squats down in front of Bran and lifts Bran's chin with a shake of his head. "It isn't stupid. Every good dog needs a toy. What kind do you like?"

The way Mikael addresses him, Bran could almost believe that what he needs is okay. It isn't stupid. No one here is judging him. "I had one that looked like an alligator, Sir. It had a squeaker in it. But that's..." He stops himself from saying it's stupid again. "Whatever. Whatever's fine."

Mikael puts that into his phone and nods. He ruffles his hands through Bran's hair before standing again. "Anything else?"

"Kara and I would like to go home." Timber says.

Bran looks back to Timber. It never even occurred to him that going home was an option. He wonders what that says about him. Also, he isn't sure how he'll handle losing more of his people.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. Bran is so intent on counting heads that he almost misses Mikael's words.

"Of course, if you are certain that that's what you want."

Timber nods. "I'm sure, Sir. I can take Kara with me and care for her." Kara, who is still crying.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

"Where is your home?" Mikael asks.

"Paris, Sir."

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

Bran ignores the rest, focusing on keeping calm, slow and deep breaths and counting heads of his people. Losing any of them is affecting him in unexpected ways. All of his effort goes toward staying calm.

Bran feels Mikael's fingers in his hair and he growls. Lily's hand is on his thigh and Dare has moved to kneel beside him.

"What is wrong with him?" Mikael asks.

"Bran has something that electrocutes him if his heart rate gets above a certain point, Sir." Dare says. "At the back of his neck, I think."

Mikael's hand shifts, probing the back of Bran's neck beneath the spiked collar until he finds the incision. He hums and nods. "Would you like to have that taken out?"

It feels like a trick question. Is he supposed to want it out? A part of him says hell yes. Another part of him is screaming a warning at him. Bran whines.

Mikael shushes him and pets at his hair again. "I'll have my physician look at it when he gets here and we'll go from there."

Bran looks up to Mikael as if to say 'really?'. He'll believe it when he sees it. Mikael just arches a brow and nods as if to say 'yes, really'.

 

* * *

 

Over the next week everything the harem has asked for is delivered to them. Mikael is true to his word.

They get their lubricant and use the single shower in the same way they did the large communal one from the harem room. They take turns, each washing one another, cleaning each other out, slicking one another up and putting plugs in.

Dare gets a large box of make up and nail polish in every shade and color. He and Lily put makeup on everyone each day just as they would have before. They paint everyone's nails. Dare always paints Bran's nails black as if he somehow knows that Bran would protest anything else.

One of Mikael's employees sits with Timber and gets all the information from her that he can about her life from before and her family and who and where she'll be going home to. It stresses Bran out to listen to it, but he wants to know where she's going, that she's going to good people, so he listens, he pays attention, he commits it all to memory.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.

The bed is taken out of the room along with the rest of the furniture. A large pallet is brought in, along with a handful of smaller ones.

It's the end of the first week by the time Mikael brings a bag into the room and calls Bran over to the chair Mikael sits in. Bran crawls over to him.

Out of the bag, Mikael pulls out a stuffed alligator toy. He squeezes the squeaker on it. Bran is embarrassed at how much he wants that toy. It isn't exactly the same as the one he tore up when he'd been hurt by his Mistress. But it's similar enough.

"Will that work?"

Bran doesn't even think about it. He barks and reaches in to take the alligator between his teeth and shake his head so the toy flings back and forth.

Mikael gets two bowls out and sets them down. He fills one of them with water from a water bottle. Then he gets a knotted rope dog toy out and lays it beside the bowls along with a few tennis balls. "Do you like to play ball, Bran?"

The only response is a muffled yip. Bran is chewing on the alligator and only vaguely cares about all the rest.

With a light chuckle, Mikael pets a hand through Bran's hair again. "Perhaps I should have saved the alligator for last."

Bran spends most of that day worrying the alligator in his teeth, not really pulling at any of the threads, just chewing on it and biting down on the squeaker. Any embarrassment he might have had is gone. He's needed this more than he cares to admit. It helps to ease his stress and anxiety.

His dinner is slid from a plate into his bowl. Bran is okay with that. He likes having things that are his. He'll try not to let anyone take them away this time.

After dinner, Dare picks up one of the balls and flings it across the floor. Bran instinctively runs after it and brings it back. Dare pets at his hair and throws it a few more times. Maybe Bran shouldn't really enjoy chasing the tennis balls, but he does enjoy it.

By nighttime, Bran pulls Jai into the huddle of pets on the floor. He sleeps on the outside to give Jai the role of playing his filter into the group just as always. When Jai cries during the night, Bran pets over his skin and kisses and licks the back of his neck to soothe him. Jai turns around and kisses Bran. They soothe one another.

 

* * *

 

A few weeks pass by. Sometimes it seems that the harem has settled into this new space. Sometimes it seems like everyone is on edge, waiting for their world to implode again. Sometimes they're both of these things in the same day.

Bran has taken to sitting by Jai for the most part, either holding Jai and petting at his back to soothe his tears or laying as he would as a dog and chewing on his toy by Jai and letting Jai pet him. Too many times a day to count, Bran looks up at counts heads, up to seven, back to one. It helps to keep him calm.

Jai and Kara have been so broken lately, more so than the rest of them. Bran doesn't want them to feel alone. Timber sits with Kara. Bran sits with Jai.

New faces show up at the house. Other Masters that Mikael brings into the room to introduce to the harem. None of them have cruel eyes like the people at the Gallery. They even sit and speak with some of the harem. They're all allowed to talk back. One of the Mistresses even holds Jai for a bit. Bran sits nearby and watches as Jai cries on her shoulder.

One morning a man that Mikael introduces as Doctor Javid comes in to check the incision at the back of Bran's neck. He pokes and prods back there, even removing Bran's collar for the inspection before putting it back on. His touch is gentle for the most part. He even warns Bran before the touch gets a little rougher, more invasive.

"It's attached to his spinal cord. The operation to remove it would be extensive and high risk." He tells Mikael.

Mikael hums thoughtfully and then gets down on Bran's level again. "Knowing that, do you want it removed?"

He gets to choose? Bran stares at Mikael in confusion for a moment before he tries to focus on the question at hand. He instantly becomes very aware of the other pets in the room. Who will take care of them if something happens to him? These are his people.

_Fuck._

"No." He says finally. "Sir."

Mikael nods. "We'll leave it at that, for now. Perhaps we'll revisit it at a later date."

Bran got to choose. That's what he's left with as the harem gets ready to shower for the day. Such a small thing, he thinks, but so empowering.

As usual, they all help one another with their showers. Bran's mind is still reeling over the fact that he got to choose. He goes to his bowls to eat his breakfast and then chews on his alligator for awhile, lost in his own mind and strangely content.

The scream from the bathroom slices through his very soul. His head jerks up and he barks, running into the bathroom. Timber is kneeling over Kara's body. Kara, who had found a razor in a drawer that none of them knew was there and cut herself. Bran had never thought to look in the drawers and cabinets.

There's blood, so much blood. Bran has a moment where he thinks about how they all just got clean in the showers.

Bran stares at Kara's body, shocked. Someone pulls at the back of his collar and Bran growls and snaps his teeth at them. They eventually get him and Timber out of the bathroom.

_Breathe, you fucking idiot._

Deep breath in - one... two... three... Slow exhale - three... two... one...

_Look what happened on your watch. You let one tiny good thing get in your head, then this happens. Fucking idiot!_

Bran looks around the room to see other stunned faces. Jai is crying again. Timber is crying. Bran counts heads.

One, two, three, four, five, six. Six, five, four, three, two, one.... Not seven. Six.

Bran cries too.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Timber decides to stay, at least for now. Bran is thankful for that even though he knows it's selfish. She cries a lot. The seven of them huddle together a lot. Bran counts heads, up to six and back down, a lot. They do what they know how to do, they please one another, they have sex, they offer each other solace in the only way they know how. With Bran, there's always pain. The others seem to accept this and even welcome it.

Mikael comes into the room and speaks quietly to each of them individually to make sure they're okay. They are not okay. But his attention doesn't go unnoticed by Bran.

Months pass. Sometimes the new Masters and Mistresses come into the room to see if they can help in any way. The pets need to be pets, so they ask if they can please them. Bran never asks that. He's a dog. Dogs don't talk without permission. It's easier being a dog these days.

He watches though, he watches as pets are taken out of the room to do whatever with the Masters. Bran worries over them until they get back looking as sated as they ever look. No one ever pays him any mind because he doesn't ask.

They don't see Mikael very much anymore. Mikael is busy getting things in order for the life they'll have some day, all of them together, out there in the real world.

Yeah. Right. Bran will believe it when he sees it.

One day Mikael does come into the room though. He heads straight for Bran with a leash. He hooks the leash to his collar and tells Bran to come with him.

Bran looks back to the other pets and then crawls out with Mikael. He's led down a grand staircase to what looks like an overly large living room. Other Masters and Mistresses are there as are a few pets he's never seen before.

Mikael picks a spot in a plush armchair and points to a pallet on the floor by his feet. Next to Mikael is Doctor Javid.

The doctor can't seem to help himself. He reaches over to feel at the scar at the back of Bran's neck again, just briefly, then sits back and sips at some amber liquid in a tumbler. "I see you finally got him out of the room."

"Yes, when you told me the others were being taken care of sexually and not Bran, I knew what the problem was." Mikael says. "He's a dog. He hasn't been allowed to use his words to ask."

"I should have thought of that. We all should have thought of that."

"Hindsight."

"Indeed." Javid says. "What do you intend to do with him in here?"

"Why? Would you like to play with him?" Mikael asks.

"Look at him. I think anyone in here would like to play with him."

Mikael's fingertips run lightly over a few of the scars on one of Bran's sides. "I think these are from the dog fights. He won more than any dog ever has. I never saw him fight, but I did hear about him."

Those scars aren't from the dog fights. Sure, Bran has a ton of scars from those fights. But the ones Mikael is touching, those are from another lifetime ago when he was a war hero overseas. That man is gone although his scars still remain.

"You know who likes dogs, Master Gregory." Doctor Javid says thoughtfully. "Although I wonder if he was captured with the rest of the Gallery elite."

"I suspect he was. Several government factions had inside men. It must have taken them years to get that deep."

"Well, I will be happy to play with Bran. I think he's lovely."

Mikael leans down to speak into Bran's ear as he combs his fingers through Bran's mess of hair. "Do you hear that, Bran? Master Javid thinks you're absolutely lovely."

Bran barks.

"Would you like to play with Master Javid?"

Bran barks again. Yes, he needs to be fucked and touched, admired and desired. He needs these things in a way that he wishes he didn't need them.

"You can trust Master Javid. He's an excellent Master and a very old and dear friend of mine. I would not allow someone I don't trust to touch you."

With that, Mikael passes Bran's leash to Javid. Bran is ordered to stand and his pallet is moved closer to Javid, then he kneels again. For a long time they stay in that room. Doctor Javid's gentle touch is always on Bran; combing through his messy hair, tracing scars, massaging and kneading at shoulder and neck muscles.

Bran watches the activity in the room, envying the way Masters and Mistresses are with their pets. These pets are loved and cared for in a way that Bran has never been and wishes he could be. He'd once thought the Mistress loved and cared for him in that way. He was so very wrong about that. She wanted him when it suited her. She used him in so many ways. Then she abused his loyalty to her.

He's grown so accustomed to Javid's touch that when it stops, he finds himself leaning back against Javid's leg to silently ask for more.

"Oh, you are so sweet aren't you Bran?" Javid says. "A sweet puppy that just needs some attention."

_I'm an alpha dog, a rabid dog, a murderer, a very poor excuse for a protector. Fuck._

Bran rubs his face against Javid's knee and is pleased when he feels those gentle hands on him again, in his hair, scratching at his ears, petting at his neck.

"I do believe you've won him over." Mikael says.

"He just needs some love and care like any wild creature. That is all." Javid leans over to kiss the top of Bran's head. "You, Mikael, with your Derek, should know this."

"Ah, but Bran does not need to be tamed. He's obviously already tame for the right person. He simply needs to be domesticated. He needs someone to be loyal and faithful with and someone to give him those things in return. Dogs don't like uncertainty. They like routine, a schedule. They pick one person to be theirs and..." Mikael's smile when speaking about Derek and about his diagnosis for Bran is an audible thing. The man does seem to know how to read people. "I don't want him calling anyone Master or Mistress until the situation is permanent."

Javid's fingers once again pull through Bran's hair. "Of course not. When that time comes, he needs the stability that should come with it."

"Sadly, I don't think the Mistress gave any of her harem that stability." Bran doesn't think he's made up the sadness in Mikael's tone at that.

"Looks can be deceiving."

"Yes, and her gallery showings were just that, all surface, no depth."

The pair grows silent for awhile. Javid's fingers continue to pet at Bran. Bran watches two of the pets have sex together at the behest of their Masters. They look like they want it, not like they're scared of saying no. Bran has to wonder if anyone would get a bullet in the brain if one of them said no. Would there be any consequences at all?

"I think I will take Bran upstairs now." Javid says.

"A part of me was hoping you would, while another part of me will be sad that I don't get to witness what transpires between you."

"You are more than welcome to join us."

There's a pause here before Mikael leans down to gently grip Bran's chin and get his attention. Bran looks at Mikael. "Would you be okay with my joining you and Master Javid?"

Actually, Bran would prefer it. Mikael has started to prove himself to Bran and the harem. Javid is still very much a question mark. So Bran barks. Mikael smiles and the both men stand then.

They walk upstairs, Javid leading Bran by his leash. Bran gets a good look at the house. Again, there's equine artwork and statues everywhere. The home looks both posh and eccentric at the same time.

Bran is led to a bedroom with a large four-poster bed in the center of it. There's a dresser, a love seat, a chest, a closet and a connecting bathroom. Two suitcases are in one corner, both in various states of unpacked or packed. A large window gives a view of forest and snow. It's snowing outside but Bran is not cold. This house is kept at a temperature comfortable for the pets.

Mikael moves to the window to light a spiced clove, then he sits down on the love seat and crosses one leg over the other.

A click at Bran's collar and the leash is unhooked and set aside on the bed side table. Javid begins to remove his clothes.

"Do remember to take care. He was trained to be rabid, a fighter." Mikael says, putting the cigarette to his lips and taking another drag.

"I will keep that in mind."

Bran watches Javid. The man is tan skinned with a soft wave of black hair that hangs to his shoulders. He has a light dusting of scruff over his face. He takes care of himself, not as muscled as Bran or Dare, but slim and soft.

"Come, Bran." Bran crawls forward until he's kneeling in front of Javid. That hand gently pets through Bran's hair, gripping some at the back and angling Bran's head back so he has to look up. "I will not hurt you. But you are free to hurt me if you must. I want you to take me as you would any of your conquests. If I tell you to stop, you will stop. Do you understand?"

Bran has to think about this. He remembers the lessons his Mistress had imparted on him.

 _What would an alpha dog do, Bran?_ She had said. _He would take what he wants._

Bran is supposed to fight for it. He once fought for his Mistress. Now he will fight for Javid. A part of him doesn't know how to fight for Javid. A part of him needs to fight for him, needs to win the fight.

_Make it hurt._

Pain is Bran. Bran is pain. He doesn't know any other way anymore. This is why Jai is usually his filter. This is why Bran is still trying to make Jai be that filter.

He growls and his teeth latch on to the meatiest part of Javid's thigh. He bites there until he tastes the familiar tang of blood. Then his tongue licks at the wound. Javid's fingers still pet through Bran's hair. The Master nods when Bran looks up at him to see if that was okay.

_Fuck whether or not it's okay. I'm supposed to take what I want. I want this. So fuck those questions._

Bran laps his tongue up over Javid's sac and then up the length of his hard cock. Javid grabs Bran's hair and pulls his head back. Then he climbs onto the bed. Bran remembers the Mistress doing the same. Bran was supposed to chase her then. He barks and goes after Javid now.

He hooks a hand at Master Javid's knee and pulls him back to the edge of the bed. Bran's lips, teeth, tongue hungrily work their way upward, feasting on Javid's skin and leaving bruises and bite marks in their wake.

As he pushes Javid's legs up to bare his ass, as his mouth finds that tight hole, his tongue pushing inside, he's vaguely aware of Mikael leaning forward to watch, to evaluate, to possibly read into everything Bran is doing. Is that what this is about? So that Mikael and Javid can evaluate him?

Fuck that shit.

Bran lets go of Javid and pulls back, glaring between the two of them. "What the fuck is this?"

"What do you mean?" Mikael asks.

Javid sits up on the bed and reaches out to touch Bran. Bran ducks his head and gets out of reach. "I mean what the hell kind of fucked up game is this? I'm not some fucking psych experiment."

"No one has said you are that, pet." Javid says. "Come here." He points at the floor and after a moment of hesitation, Bran decides he still can't say no and crawls in toward him. Javid's fingers are instantly in Bran's hair, gentle and soothing. "Tell us what you are thinking."

When Bran is silent for too long, Mikael urges him forward. "Use your words, Bran. No one can do anything about helping you if you don't say what's wrong."

"I don't know what the hell to say, okay? I don't know what you wanna hear. I don't know what the fuck I need. I don't know who the hell I am anymore or what I'm supposed to be or how I'm supposed to act. I don't know, all right? I don't fucking know!"

Javid pets at the side of Bran's face. "I understand. The world is an uncertain and unsteady place to you right now. We want to try to repair some of that stability for you. But you must let us help you. You must speak with us. Dialogue is important, Bran."

"You seem very comfortable when you get to be a dog." Mikael says. "More comfortable than when you aren't. Do you enjoy it?" Bran is ashamed to say that he is indeed more comfortable as a dog. Mikael reads him like an open book. "There is no shame in enjoying it, Bran. There are also no consequences for your lack of enjoyment of it if that's the case."

"I used to hate it." Bran says. "It was fucking hard to do what they wanted me to do, to act like a dog."

"And now?" Javid asks.

"Now, it's just... easier. I'm a better dog than I ever was a person." The admission isn't necessarily true. But it's all Bran can see right now. When he'd returned from the war, he wasn't very good at being a person.

"That's okay, Bran." Javid leans down to kiss the top of Bran's head. "You're a very good dog. With us, you are free to be a dog if you want to be a dog and not a dog if you don't want to be. You can choose. You can go back and forth between the two if that is what you wish. You just need to know that it's okay to be what you need to be."

"You're obviously submissive in nature. You take orders well. But you are not always a bottom. We call that being a switch." Mikael explains. "That's why Javid was letting you choose. He was letting you take what you wanted however you wanted to take it."

Bran looks from Mikael up to Javid. "I always hurt people."

"Is that you or is that what you've been taught?" Javid asks.

It takes Bran awhile of really thinking about that before he shakes his head and shrugs. "I don't fucking know." The heel of his hands presses to his brow. "I'm so fucking messed up."

Mikael is behind him, petting at his back. Javid's fingers still comb through his hair and over his neck and shoulders.

"We all have our messes. But right now you're confused." Mikael says. "That's very different from being messed up. We've established that you like being a dog. Now how do you like your sex? Do you like it rough?"

"I like to win." Bran says.

Javid smiles softly. Mikael chuckles. "And how do you define winning in sex?"

"I don't know, uhm..." Bran's brow furrows and he looks back and forth between the two men. "Getting what I want? Me doing the fucking instead of being fucked."

"Do you not like being fucked?" Mikael asks.

That's not true. Bran does like being fucked. His body has been 'upgraded' to crave it. So where does that leave him? "No, I... I like it."

"Do you like it when it hurts?" Mikael is delving into this head first and at full steam, it seems.

"Yeah, I guess."

"And you like to hurt others?"

"Sometimes, yeah. And sometimes I wish I didn't hurt people."

"It's your choice, you know. You have to start thinking about it as a choice. You choose to make it hurt. You choose not to make it hurt. There might not have been a choice before. Pain might have been expected of you before. Now, it is your choice."

His choice. Bran has a choice.

"The last time I was given a choice Kara killed herself." Six, not seven.

"Oh, sweet Bran. That is not your fault." Javid says. "Rid yourself of that burden. It was not your fault."

"I know you view yourself as their protector as any good dog would, but that was Kara's choice not yours." Mikael's hand rests on Bran's shoulder. "I am sorry that it happened though. I wish it hadn't."

They're all silent for awhile, both men petting at Bran until Mikael speaks up. "I want you to kiss at Javid's chest and stomach without biting him."

Bran looks up at Javid whose eyes are smiling as he nods his approval. Javid leans back on his elbows on the mattress. Bran crawls up on top of him and kisses at his chest.

_No biting. No biting. No biting._

With Mikael pressing lightly at the plug in his ass, his kisses work their way down to Javid's stomach as he repeats the words 'no biting' over and over again in his mind. When he gets to the doctor's hipbones, Javid pets at his hair and tells him to continue. Mikael reminds him 'no biting'.

The blow job is slow and luxurious. At some point, Bran doesn't think so much about not biting. He adds just a hint of teeth as he'd been taught, makes it feel good with just an edge of danger. The way Javid's breath hitches and his hips arch up shows how much the Master is liking it.

"Now, do you want to fuck him or do you want to be fucked, Bran?" Mikael asks.

"I wanna fuck him, Sir." There's no thought behind the words, only desire.

"Would you like to make it hurt or not?" When Bran doesn't answer for fear of that being a trick question, Mikael redirects. "Javid, do you have a preference?"

"I like being fucked either way, Bran." Javid says. "You have my permission to take what you want, however you want to take it."

Bran pushes Javid's legs up and waits for the world to implode. It doesn't. He laps at and thrusts tongue and fingers into Doctor Javid's tight hole while waiting for the world to implode. It doesn't. With just that small bit of slick, Bran stands and pushes until the head of his cock is just past that tight ring of muscle. The world doesn't implode.

As he thrusts deeper and deeper into that tight canal, Javid cries out even while his legs hook around Bran's waist and pull him deeper inside. The world is stable and fine while Bran takes what he wants.

Mikael stays where he is and lights another clove while getting an up close and personal view of the entire thing.

When Javid cries out using Bran's name and Mikael reaches for his own crotch, Bran howls and fucks Master Javid exactly as hard and as fast as he wants to. The world doesn't implode. And maybe, just maybe, he's found a little bit of himself again in thanks to these two men.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

For a very long time things seem to level out. The Masters and Mistresses continue to offer to work with the harem. Bran watches as each of his people become more comfortable in their own skin, as they become more liberal with their words and actions, as the ground beneath them solidifies, as they become more than just pets, as they become people too.

Bran can feel himself changing too. He, along with the rest, is learning that he has a choice. Mikael has given their freedom to choose back to them.

They're given clothes that they only very seldom wear. They're given free reign of the house which makes it harder for Bran to keep track of everyone. When he gets too stressed out, he goes in search of everyone. Counting heads is more difficult except when they're all in the same room.

Doctor Javid continues to work with Bran. Javid urges Bran to use his voice, to keep the dialogue open. Bran does so when it comes to sex. There are so many things though, things he has pent up inside of him, things he can't talk about yet for fear of being hated as much as he sometimes hates himself.

One of the more difficult days is the day that Timber decides to go home to Paris. The other pets cry as they tell her goodbye. Bran is just angry about it. They're a family. These are his people. They're supposed to stick together. Bran has to work harder to keep his calm that day than he's had to work in a long while.

What if the others decide to go home too? Bran doesn't feel like he has a home to go to.

Six heads to count becomes five. Bran counts those heads often after Timber is gone. He obsesses over it. He worries over his people, scattered throughout the house during the day. He worries the alligator in his teeth when they're all in the same room.

Jai is the only one who rarely ventures out of the room unless Mistress Rose specifically picks him out. Mistress Rose seems to be good for Jai. She holds him. She lets him cry. She brings him out of his shell. Bran is okay with Jai being with Mistress Rose. She won't let anything bad happen to him.

The day comes when bags are brought into the harem room, small leather satchels with many interior compartments. The house staff who brings them in tells the pets to dress and pack their things into their satchel. Almost immediately a nervous energy fills the room. Nevertheless, the pets do as they're told. They dress and they pack their meager belongings into their bags.

They're led out to a limousine. Bran notes that some of the Masters and Mistresses and the pets of those that have them are loading up into other limos. When he spots Doctor Javid, the man smiles at him and nods. Bran isn't sure if it's a goodbye or it's meant to be encouraging.

The limo takes them to an airport. Bran is relieved to see the other limousines arriving with theirs. Maybe things are going to be okay.

Bran wants to peel his clothes off, get on his knees, get his alligator out of his bag and chew on it.

Instead, he follows the others to the stairs that ascend into the plane and counts heads.

One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one. One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one.

JB, holding his twin brother Kyle's hand, looks back to Bran. "Where do you think we're going?"

"The fuck if I know." The minute he says it, he knows it isn't the answer JB needs to hear. He gestures back to the limousines where the Masters and Mistresses are unloading their more substantial belongings. "I think since they're coming, we'll be okay."

JB seems to like that answer and nods, continuing to walk hand-in-hand with his brother. Kyle, Bran notes, still hasn't said much. He isn't crying as much as he was, but he still hasn't spoken except to ask one of the Masters or Mistresses if he can please them. Bran decides that when they get where they're going, he's going to try to get Kyle to talk.

Mikael is in the plane, smiling and gesturing to the pallets on the floor. The pets kneel on them. Bran kneels on one end next to Jai.

"Get comfortable, all of you." Mikael says. "We're going to our new home."

Bran watches as Mikael turns away from him to greet his friends as they board the plane. Master Javid smiles at Bran when he gets settled. Bran almost smiles back, almost.

He'd never thought Mikael would make this happen. He'd never thought it was possible. A new home in the states? With all of them that are left? His eyes are just a little bit hopeful as he looks over at his little makeshift family.

One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one.

 

* * *

 

They aren't taken to another sprawling mansion surrounded by snow. They're taken to a city. Bran is from a place where there are no buildings as tall as this. The streets in his hometown are wider, full of big pickup trucks rather than tiny environment friendly vehicles. There are cabs everywhere here, more cabs than Bran has ever seen.

The limousine caravan stops at one of those tall buildings. The bright red sign outside the bottom floor reads 'Passion'. Just inside the doors is a foyer with a front desk. To the side there seems to be a coat check room. Beyond that the main room is a club of sorts. A circular bar sits in the center, booths and tall tables are scattered about. There's a stage. There are cages and curtained rooms off to the sides.

Bran still walks in the back so that he can see all five heads he's keeping tabs on. They're led to some elevators that he wouldn't have known existed were Mikael not to have led them there. The walls seem to open up and they all step inside.

Bran is sure to see which floor they're on before they're led off of the elevator. It's the second from the top.

The room they're led to is open door, no locks on it. Inside the space is large. There's a huge pallet from wall to wall on the far side. Smaller pallets of various sizes rest over the floor. There are couches and chairs lining the wall closes to the door. To the side Bran gets a glimpse of what could be a bathroom beyond one door and what could be a dressing room beyond another door.

"Welcome to your new, more permanent home." Mikael says. "Feel free to explore."

The pets do explore. Bran looks in the bathroom to see it's large, spacious, and communal as they're more accustomed to. It will be so much easier for them to bathe each other in here. The next room is indeed a dressing room with racks of clothes and plugs and leather and makeup and various other amenities.

He turns to look back at Mikael, both with surprise for having done what he said he would do and with skepticism as he waits for the catch.

Mikael looks at Bran. "Use your words, Bran."

Bran isn't sure he has anything to say so for a few moments he's silent. "What's the catch?"

"Catch?"

"Yeah. What the fuck do we have to do to stay here?" The others have gathered around Bran, watching Mikael and waiting for his answer.

"Well..." Mikael pulls his cigarette case from the inside pocket of his suit coat and lights one up. "The club downstairs will be opening in a month. You're free to work there if you wish. I will pay you a reasonable salary. However, it isn't necessary. If you wish to stay here and continue to let the Master's Circle work with you, that is also an option. Or you can do both. Your choice. Also, please remember to address me with respect."

Their choice.

Bran remembers the cages downstairs. The stage with the big cross thing on it. "What kind of work would we be doing downstairs? Sir."

"Thank you." Mikael nods graciously at Bran for calling him 'sir'. "Serving drinks and food to start out. If you want to do more, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Is there really no catch? Since they've been placed in Mikael's care, the bottom hasn't once fallen out from beneath them. Maybe it won't happen. Maybe the six of them can stay here and just be, they can be whatever and however they want to be.

"There will always be guards outside of this door. They are not here to keep you in. They're here to keep you safe and monitor the flow into your room rather than out of it. Only other Masters, Mistresses and the cleaning staff are allowed in here with you." Mikael explains. "If you need anything, let the guards know and they will let one of us know."

And with that, Mikael leaves the room, and them to their own devices.

 

* * *

 

Opening night of the club has the entire building from top to bottom feeling electric, alive with energy pulsing through its walls. All of the pets have decided to try working downstairs. Jai will be working where he can be alone in the coat check room. The rest of them will be serving drinks and cleaning tables.

Dare has painted Bran's nails with a fresh coat of black nail polish. Lily has put make-up on him, a dark and dramatic bit of black kol to make his eyes pop. She also finger curls his hair so that all the shaggy layers flip out. Bran isn't good at any of the primping so he just stands back and watches the others do their own.

It's Jai who comes over to him and puts a harness on him. Since this is the most initiative Jai has taken to do anything for some time, Bran lets him hook the leather around his torso.

Downstairs, they're told to take drink orders, get them at the bar and take them back to the tables. Easy enough.

Bran spends the evening doing this. He watches his people do the same. He watches the room transform around him, full of Masters and pets, Dominants and submissives, all of whom seem to have chosen to be at the club in the role that they are. They're all very open and free about who they are, about who and what they want to be. None of the former harem needs to be embarrassed about who or what they are now.

It's fascinating and, at times, incredibly erotic. Bran can't help but be affected by it all. He can't help that he seeks out the person he's had the most sexual interaction with since the Gallery.

He spots Master Javid with another pet and Bran is sure that he can feel those gentle hands, the way they touch that pet, on his own skin. Bran also feels a twinge of jealousy. He flashes back to the numerous times the Mistress cast him aside when he needed her. It's stupid, really. Javid is not his Master. Javid is a man that fucks him sometimes, a man that soothes all the rough edges of Bran. Javid made no promises. Javid owes him nothing.

At one point Bran passes by Mikael's table to clear an empty class from it.

"What do you think, Bran?" Mikael asks.

His reply is more instinct than an actual question. "Does it matter, Sir?"

"I know I've proven to you that it does matter. I care what you think."

Mikael isn't wrong. Bran looks around the room and shrugs. "It looks like people are enjoying themselves. Is this legal?"

Mikael smiles and nods. "Yes, it's all legal. I'd like another whiskey, please Bran."

Bran leaves to get Mikael his refill. Yeah, this could work out well.

 

* * *

 

It's a few months later. Bran is laying by Jai, dog style, with his alligator between his hands as he chews on the tail. Lily is teaching Dare to dance across the room. It's a lesson in hilarity. JB and Kyle are sitting close to Jai and Bran, playing a game of cards.

The doors open and Bran expects one of the Masters, as usual. Instead he sees Derek. Mikael is standing behind Derek. But Bran studies Derek. Derek, who looks absolutely stunned by what he sees.

One, two, three, four, five... six. Six, five, four, three, two, one.

Lily tackles him from the side. Derek stands his ground and embraces her.

"Derek, we miss you. So glad here." Lily says.

"Hey, hey! It's about time!" Dare hugs both Lily and Derek at the same time. Bran watches this from the outside looking in, as always. "Your Master saved us. Pretty cool, right?"

Derek still looks shocked. Bran guesses he would be shocked too if he were in Derek's shoes. "I can't believe it. I can't believe it."

"Believe it." Dare says.

A conversation ensues. Reunions. Checking that each other is truly there and in good shape. Bran continues to count.

One, two, three, four, five, six. Six, five, four, three, two, one.

Of course, when Bran catches up to the conversation, it's Dare that's still talking. "He's... not handling being away from the Mistress all that well. I think you get that."

The 'he' in question is Jai.

"Maybe you talk to him?" Lily is speaking now. "Your Master very kind to us. Jai is hard to reach. He was closest to the Mistress. He hurts."

What? They think Derek will get through to Jai after he hasn't been with them for years? Like Bran hasn't been trying to do that very thing? Like Bran hasn't been here taking care of them, of Jai? Fuck them. Fuck Derek. Fuck Lily. Fuck Dare. Fuck Mikael.

"Yeah, I'll talk to him." Bran hears Derek say. Bran growls.

Derek asks his Master if he can stay and of course Mikael gives his permission. Derek kisses Mikael and Bran notices that Mikael looks different. The Master looks more content than he ever has. They both look happy.

Fuck them.

Once Derek has taken his clothes off he starts heading over to Jai, and vicariously Bran. Bran stands up and moves right into Derek's path at the last moment, knocking his shoulder. "What took you so fucking long to get here?"

It's then that he notices the cuts on Derek's face. What happened to him?

"I didn't know you were here. Mikael needed to make sure I was ready."

"Yeah, your Master's a real peach." Bran means that. He thinks Mikael's an all right guy. "Not all of us made it." He gestures to Jai with a tilt of his head. "That one back there isn't doing too well. I've been keeping a close eye on him."

"It's gonna take some time." Derek says.

No shit, Sherlock. The next statement is less about Jai and more about Derek's absence. "It's been over two fucking years."

Derek seems to understand that the statement is about him. He meets Bran's gaze and nods. "It's gonna take some time."

Bran looks at those scars on Derek's face. What the fuck happened? "Did you kill the bastard who cut up your face and your back?"

"No. He's still out there."

"Your head in the right order?" Because Bran isn't letting Derek's crazy near Jai if he can help it.

"Yeah."

"Alright then." Bran claps a hand on Derek's shoulder and then steps over to get his alligator and take it over to the twins. He sits beside Kyle with JB on the other side of Kyle and watches Derek with Jai like a hawk.

"Did he say who messed up his back?" JB asks.

"Nope."

"Do you think he'll stay?"

"Who the fuck knows?" Bran mutters.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

While Derek spends a lot of time with the harem, it's only after Derek opens up to them about his past with this Buford guy that Bran starts to consider going outside of Passion. Derek is out there alone. The others are safe inside these walls. But it seems to Bran that Derek is braver than he'd realized every time he steps outside of these walls.

He needs to check things out outside of here, in the world they were each stolen away from, in case the rest of the harem decides to go out there. On top of that, he's as protective of Derek as he is of the others. Maybe they don't realize or acknowledge what he tries to do for them, but he does it anyway. He's used to being on the periphery of things. He can put himself on the periphery of Derek's life out there.

One night when Passion is closing, before Mikael can steal Derek upstairs, Bran slides into a booth next to the both of them. "I wanna go out there with you."

"Go out where?"

"What do you mean, where? Fuck, Derek. Don't make this more difficult than it's gotta be. I wanna go out there with you." He gestures at the doors to Passion.

"Derek. He wants you to take him out into the city sometime." Mikael says, sipping at some amber drink in a small tumbler.

"Oh."

Bran doesn't much care for the hesitation Derek has over the idea. But he can't really blame him either. Before the Gallery, people didn't really volunteer to spend time with him either. Bran knows he can be tough to handle for most.

"Look, I'm not trying to get in the way. I'm not trying to infringe on your life. I just..." Bran runs a hand back through his mess of hair. "The others are safe here. I wanna be out there with you until the cops get off their asses and catch that Buford guy who fucked up your face."

"Bran." Mikael says. "Perhaps you should practice a bit of tact."

"Tact is for people who don't say the truth." Bran says. "Sir. Besides, we've both got scars."

Derek smirks and shakes his head. "Alright. I can take you out with me tomorrow if you want."

"Yeah." Bran says. "Yeah, you know where to find me." He slides out of the booth and continues to help clean up the main floor for the night.

 

* * *

 

Bran spends the morning as a nervous wreck. He lets the others help him get clean and slicked up. He helps the others toward that end too. Then he explains that he's going out for the day. The others ask him a lot of questions. He lets them know that he's taking the phone Mikael gave him and if they need him he's a phone call away. Then he gets dressed and waits...

And waits.

It's almost noon when Derek comes into the room and asks if he's ready to go.

"Fuck yeah. About time. Why are you always so fucking late?" It's probably obvious that Bran has been stewing in his own nervous energy for awhile because Derek doesn't answer.

They get on Derek's bike and Bran holds onto Derek's waist while he drives them through the city. Bran is glad for the roar of the engine. It means he doesn't have to make small talk on top of his own fears.

Derek takes him to a house where he explains that he's gutted the inside to restore it so he can sell it off and then do another one. Bran is surprised. It's hard to think of anyone from the harem doing anything besides what they do at Passion. Derek is different though. He wasn't in the harem as long as the rest of them. He has people on the outside of everything involving the Gallery that give a shit about him. Maybe because of these things Derek is more easily able to live in two worlds.

Once again, Bran is just a little bit jealous. He feels bad for being jealous.

He walks around the house behind Derek as the other man describes what he still has to work on in each room. The conversation is so ordinary. Bran has a hard time keeping up. He just nods like he understands and can be a part of everything Derek is describing.

"Hey."

Derek's hand is suddenly on his shoulder. They've stopped in what will someday be the kitchen.

"You all right?"

Bran smirks and nods. "Yeah. Just peachy. I can help out here. My dad used to run a hardware store, was pretty damn handy. I know a few things."

"Yeah? I'll accept any help I can get. Plus we can get to know each other better."

Bran shakes his shoulder free of Derek's grasp. "You don't have to go all feelings on me or anything. If you wanna fuck, we can do that too."

Derek slowly shakes his head. "That's not what this is about, is it?"

"No. I just know the truth of us, of all of us. We're all fucked up. And we all fuck cause that's what we know how to do."

"We're also good at other things, all of us. We just have to remember those things."

"Fuck that Ghandi shit."

Derek laughs, full and rich, so that it makes Bran grin and smirk. "Okay, maybe that wasn't Ghandi."

"You kidding? That was a Derek Morgan original."

Bran reaches up to idly touch his fingertips to his spiked collar. He looks around the room. "So show me your tools and put me to work." He pauses. "That wasn't a come on."

For the next few weeks Bran goes out to help Derek with the house on most days. Derek always has him back at Passion in time to get ready for the club to open. Strangely, going out is getting easier while wearing clothes is not. Every time he gets back to the club he's already peeling out of his clothes the minute he's in the doors and is naked by the time he gets upstairs again. His skin can breathe.

One day while Derek and Bran are out working on the house, someone else calls out from the entryway. A slim nerdy looking guy comes in with food.

"Oh, I didn't know you had someone here."

"That's all right." Derek says. "We can share. Reid, this is Bran. Bran, Reid. We used to work together."

Bran just stares. This is a normal person. Bran has no idea what to do with a normal person. The hand Reid had offered him drops away when Bran doesn't take it.

"Uhm..." Reid looks between Bran and Derek.

Bran pulls uncomfortably at his clothes until Derek claps a hand down on his shoulder and jars Bran out of whatever spiral he'd been in. They sit down to break for lunch. Derek and Reid talk a lot. Bran just sits there in silence and takes whatever scraps of food Derek passes his way.

It's strange, like he's outside of the situation, watching someone else sit here like an idiot and say and do absolutely nothing. Bran is embarrassed for that person. He's embarrassed for himself.

Just when the last bit of food is being eaten, the sound of heels on hardwood floors echoes in the empty house. The sound gives Bran a flashback to the Mistress who always wore heels. Then a woman appears in the living room area with a box of pizza in her hand. She's wearing a dress and large clunky heels. Everything about her is colorful and busy. She's kind of like sunshine on top of an over-the-top flower garden, like the unrealistic kind you see in home improvement commercials.

"Reid! You beat me to it! Great minds, right? Well you'll just have to eat at least one slice so I don't feel like feeding handsome boys was a bad idea." She sees Bran. "Oh. Hello. I'm Penelope." She offers a hand.

Bran stares at that hand, back up at her. She pulls her hand away. Bran is embarrassed.

"Penelope, this is Bran. Bran, Penelope. I used to work with her too."

Some kind of look and silent conversation passes between Reid and Penelope and then Derek and Penelope. She nods, seeming to get the gist of whatever it is that they told her without using words.

"Well it's very nice to meet you, Bran. I was expecting one cute boy and I got three! Today's a fabulous day in every way." She somehow sits on the ground with them, her legs folded together underneath her, and then she opens the pizza box. "Everyone eat!"

Derek picks up a pizza slice and hands it to Bran. Bran, who isn't used to eating with his hands. Bran sets the pizza back down in the box. Everyone looks at him for a heartbeat, then they continue on as if he isn't being unintentionally awkward as fuck.

He listens to the three of them chatter, the words that would make Derek take him back to the safety of Passion on the tip of his tongue. He keeps having to swallow them down to keep from saying them. It's a constant struggle to keep from begging Derek to take him home with his tail between his legs and stay here even though he can't figure out how to act like anything less than a deer in headlights.

Eventually both of Derek's friends leave. They each say that it was nice to meat Bran, but Bran knows that that can't be true.

The minute it's just the two of them again, Derek approaches Bran. "You okay?"

"I wanna go home." Strange how, when he's freaked out in every way, it's so easy to call the club home. Maybe it's just the people that are home. Either way, being brave is a lot harder than Bran had thought it would be, especially without a handler telling him what to do. He hates that he actually misses that asshole Yani right now. He needs someone to tell him what to do.

"Okay. Okay. We're gonna do that. I know you weren't ready for people and I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry." Derek has a hand on either one of Bran's shoulders. "Take a deep breath, man. We're okay. We can even stay here and do some work. Just you and me, together."

Bran breathes deep a few times. He only has Derek's head to count right now. His other people are at Passion. He leans in to brush his lips against Derek's, leaning toward what's familiar to him, toward what he knows will make him feel better. His teeth automatically latch on and he immediately makes himself let go. Derek doesn't even try to kiss him back and Bran feels even more like an idiot.

"Bran..."

"I know I hurt you." Bran interrupts before Derek can say anything to push Bran's embarrassment into humiliation. "I hurt everyone. I'm trying not to. But..."

"That bite didn't hurt."

"No... back... you know. When our Mistress wanted me to fuck you. I made it hurt cause that's the kind of shit she always had me do. And I guess I wanted her to... you know, fucking want me the way she made me want her. It was fucked up."

"All of that, every day there, was fucked up. We all did what we had to do to survive. We're here now. I'm okay. And you're gonna be okay too."

Bran shakes his head, an argument on the tip of his tongue. He doesn't feel like he's gonna be okay. Derek doesn't know all the things the Gallery made him do. Nobody knows that they made Bran a murderer among other things.

Instead, Bran forces a smirk and a change of topic. "Your friend looked like a kitten puked fucking rainbows under a clear blue sky."

Derek barks a laugh. "I'm gonna guess you're not talking about Reid."

"Fuck no."

"Penelope, she's... there's nobody like her." Derek says. "But she's the best friend a guy could ask for. I wouldn't have her any other way."

When a silence grows between them, Derek gently grips Bran's chin in his fingers. Bran looks at him as Derek whispers 'no biting', then leans in to kiss Bran. This kiss is less awkward and much more comfortable than the other one. Bran doesn't bite.

 

* * *

 

Bran starts going to the house to work with Derek a few times a week. He likes it when he impresses Derek with knowledge of building things. Derek is surprised when Bran confides that he was military for several years. Bran is surprised as Derek tells him all about his own background and history. They keep trying to top one another with their stories about crazy things they've seen or been through.

One day when they pull up outside the house, Derek kills the engine and nods in the direction of the other cars parked at the house. "Penelope and Jesse are here. If you get uncomfortable, I don't mind taking you back to Passion."

Bran has heard about Jesse. He knows Jesse was undercover at the Gallery. And Penelope, he's gonna try not to be such an idiot this time.

"I'm fine." He says, getting off the bike.

"You sure?"

"Just fucking peachy."

"Okay. If that changes, let me know."

Inside, Derek introduces Bran to Jesse. Bran recognizes that face, one of the guards that sometimes transported him from one place to the next. It's a very punch-able face, Bran thinks. Of course, anyone associated with the Gallery is probably very punch-able. While Jesse offers a hand to shake, Bran's hands ball into fists at his sides.

"Well hello, handsome. So good to see you again. No really, my eyes are happy."

Penelope isn't saying these words to Derek. She said them to Bran. Suddenly, Bran is engulfed in a tight hug that lingers long enough to make his hands unclench. Even when she pulls back, her hands rest on Bran's shoulders. She looks at him unafraid and bright-eyed.

_Just like a fucking kitten that pukes rainbows._

"Do you remember me?" She finally asks.

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I remember. With the pizza."

"Oh, great. Now I'll always and forever be known as pizza girl. Such a tragedy. I should have brought something sweet like donuts or cookies."

"Or rainbows." Bran says.

"Now you got it! I wanna be rainbow girl."

Derek and Bran exchange an amused look, then they all set about painting the room. Penelope's ridiculous tennis shoes with four inch rubber heels become a topic of conversation. The dog that Jesse brought yips from the other room and Derek goes after her.

"I'm getting paint all over my painting outfit." Penelope says.

"Isn't that what it's for?" Jesse asks.

"Well, yeah. But it's hard to be cute when you're covered in paint. Being amazing in all things is hard work sometimes."

Bran smirks. "I don't think you have any problem with that, rainbow girl. And think of the paint as adding to the rainbow."

"I'll be right back." Jesse sets his paint roller in the pan. "Gonna check on Derek and Molly."

"See? That's the perfect nickname for me. Rainbow girl. What was that look you gave my hot chocolate thunder when I said I wanted to be called rainbow girl?"

This is probably one of those times when Bran should exercise tact, as Mikael would say. He does not do that thing. "I told him you look like a fucking kitten puking rainbows." In hindsight, he thinks maybe he shouldn't have said it.

But then Penelope laughs. "I like it! You look like a puppy dog that pukes cream soda... probably a Doberman."

"Shit." He says with a smirk. She has no idea how close to the truth she is. "Why a doberman? Why cream soda?"

"Cause you're all sleek lines, hard and pissed off on the outside, but on the inside you're sweet and carbonated."

"Alright then." Bran glances toward the back of the house as Jesse comes rushing back in, Molly hot on his heels.

Jesse's obviously just ended a phone call. "Mikael's sending someone to pick you up."

"What? Why?"

"Why would Mikael send someone for you?" Penelope asks Bran. Bran doesn't want to answer that.

"Derek's gone." Jesse says. "There was blood. I... I don't know what happened."

Bran feels the walls closing in on him as the paint brush drops to the floor. "What?"

"It's okay. It'll be okay." Jesse says, moving over to Bran. "You're okay, Bran. What do you need?"

Before he even thinks about it, Bran hauls back and lands a punch at Jesse's face. He hears a bone crack and Penelope screeches. There's blood from Jesse's nose on his knuckles. The walls are too close.

Fight. Win. Fuck. Piss. Make it hurt. Where is his Mistress? Where is she? Fuck her!

_Breathe. Fucking breathe, Bran. Come on._

Bran breathes deep - one... two... three... He exhales - three... two... one...

He's on his knees, having no idea when and how he got to his knees. Derek is gone. He's out here in the real world with normal people and Derek isn't here. What happened to Derek?

In - one... two... three... Out - three... two... one...

He's pulling at his clothes to try to get them off in his disorientation and panic and Jesse is grabbing his hands to stop him even though his nose is obviously broken and bleeding profusely.

"Bran. Don't. Mikael will have someone here soon to take you back. You can do what you need to do at his club. Just stay calm. Stay calm and still."

Bran bares his teeth and growls at Jesse. He barks. Bran feels like a wild, rabid thing and wonders if he looks as crazy as he feels to Jesse and Penelope.

Jesse pulls his hands back to quit touching him, palms out to show that he isn't going to touch or hurt Bran.

Bran breathes in - one... two... three... He breathes out - three... two... one...

He looks up at Penelope who's looking at him in utter confusion. She's on the phone talking to someone, telling them about Derek's absence.

_Fuck my life._


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Derek ends up being okay. A week later and Bran still hasn't gotten past what happened the day Derek was abducted at his house. He's stays inside, laying next to the others and chewing on his alligator toy all day until it's time to get ready for working the club each night.

They wake and shower and prepare themselves. They lounge about. They work the club. They fuck and sleep. It's so much easier in here.

Sometimes Derek is with them. Most of the time Derek is up in Mikael's room.

One day Derek texts Bran.

``**Derek:** Hey. Put on some clothes and meet me downstairs.  
**Bran:** I'm staying in today.  
**Derek:** Okay. But still put some clothes on and come downstairs.  
**Bran:** Why?  
**Derek:** Just do it. Come on, Bran. Be brave.  
**Bran:** Fuck you. Give me ten minutes. 

Bran untangles himself from Jai, who he's been curled up with, and goes to the dressing room to pull on a pair of jeans and a tee. No matter what Derek says, he's staying here. So he just slips on some of Dare's pink glitter flip-flops rather than his boots.

Downstairs, the main bar space is empty except for a handful of employees setting up for opening tonight. Bran looks around for Derek and doesn't see him so he sits down on the floor and waits, picking at some of the chipped black nail polish on his nails.

It's just over ten minutes later that the foyer of Passion lights up when the doors are opened and people step through. People in the plural. Derek enters from the foyer. Behind him is rainbow girl.

_Fuck._

Bran gets to his feet and starts to back up toward the elevator.

Derek spots him and calls out. "Bran wait. She's okay. She just wanted to check on you."

Bran glares at Derek. He glares at Penelope. Derek and Penelope step closer. Bran steps backward. "What the fuck is this?" He asks.

"Don't get mad at Derek, okay? He explained what this place is and who you are and I just wanted to see. I needed to see it and to check on you. And to be fair people don't tell me no very often so I'm kind of like a dog with a bone when I want something... I mean... I didn't mean a dog. I just..."

Derek's eyes close briefly and he shakes his head. "Baby girl, stop. You see he's okay."

"You wanted to check on me?" Bran asks, also shaking his head in confusion. "Why?"

"Because once she calls you friend, you're her friend Bran." Derek says. "I mean look at her. You try telling her no. It's impossible."

Bran falls silent, still glaring between Derek and Penelope. She knows what kind of place this is. She knows that Bran works here. Derek told her who he is. She must know _what_ he is too. Bran has no idea what to say. So he defaults to what he knows. He just looks pissed off.

"So this is the place, huh?" Penelope asks, looking around at the circular bar, the cages, the stage with the big cross on it. Again, her attire is a high definition splash of color. "I like it. It's cool, like something you'd see in a movie. Is this Mikael's table you told me about? Yeah. I can see him sitting here. Our not!Daniel Craig, king of the jungle."

She moves on to Bran then. "So last time I saw you, you were a little freaked out. We were both freaked out. It's okay though. Right? Derek's okay. You're okay. I'm okay. We can all be okay together. I mean there are still rooms to paint at Derek's house and then there'll be another house and another and both of us are going to be in Derek's life and your surliness sometimes makes me laugh and we can still be friends right?"

It's word overload. The Gallery has a habit of forcing a person to boil things down to the most simplistic of terms. Uncomplicated. Penelope is sensory overload in every way.

"Why the fuck would you wanna be my friend after what you saw?" After she saw him on his knees growling and barking like a dog. "Or why would you wanna be my friend at all, for that matter? You don't know me. You don't know shit."

"Bran..." Derek whispers. When Bran looks at him, Derek gives him a warning look about how he's talking to Penelope.

Bran swallows down whatever other words he might have wanted to hurl out into the ether and takes a deep breath.

"Okay. So what I saw was new. But that's okay. I like learning new things. I mean, my New Year's resolution was to step outside of my comfort zone at least once a week. So, you know, I'm doing that. Derek explained a lot of things to me and I want you to know that it's okay. I still wanna be your friend. Even if you wanna bite my head off, I'm okay with that. I just-"

"I don't wanna bite your head off." Bran interrupts.

"Okay, well that's good cause I really like having a head for the braining and the thinking and the eating and seeing and smelling and hearing and hair styling and makeup wearing." Here, she takes a deep breath. "So a dog, huh? A Doberman, like I said?"

Bran shrugs. "I dunno. Sure. I can be a fucking Doberman."

"With cream soda on the inside?"

"Sweet and carbonated." Bran pushes a hand back through his messy hair and looks down at the ground. "You don't think it's messed up?"

"No. You should be whatever you're comfortable being. I mean people sometimes look at me weird for how I dress. Sometimes I even wear cat ear headbands! You should do you, Bran, whatever you are and haters can hate, right?"

"Fuck the haters?"

"Yeah! Eff-word them!" She smiles brightly.

Bran has to smirk. Of course a girl like Penelope, all sunshine and rainbows, doesn't curse.

"So, friends? Will you come back out to help Derek with his houses? Not that he needs help, it's just find to hang out and chit-chat and get in the way."

"Maybe." Maybe he'll go outside of Passion again. Bran has no idea if he can do that yet. Maybe he'll try. "But yeah, friends, I guess."

Zero point two seconds later, Bran is engulfed in a hug. It's awkward because Bran isn't good at hugging yet, not with normal people. He looks over her shoulder to find Derek grinning at him. Penelope kisses his cheek, leaving an imprint of bright red lips on his scruffy skin.

As Penelope is on her way out with Derek, she calls out behind her. "Oh! Nice sandals, by the way!"

Bran looks down to the pink glitter flip-flops on his feet. His eyes roll up to the ceiling. "Fuck my life." He mutters.

 

* * *

 

Bran falls into a routine after that. For awhile he goes out once a week to work on the house with Derek and Penelope. Sometimes other people join, Derek's other friends. Bran is always quiet around them, never sure of what to say or how to act around new people. His instinct is to get on his knees and bark and growl at them. He has to work hard not to do that.

He likes hanging out with just Penelope and Derek. Neither of them make him feel like a freak. Eventually, Bran is going out with Derek several times a week. He always comes back to tell the rest of the harem what they worked on that day, what they ate, what they talked about, etc.

Eventually, the others start going out with him. They don't go out as often as Bran does. But every once in awhile, they want to come too. Bran loves that. All of his people in one place.

Dare always gets the most unwanted attention. People side-eye Dare when he's out in public no matter how he tries to cover himself up and Bran glares at them to make them look away. Sometimes he flips people off for staring for too long or whispering about them. Sometimes he imagines meeting them in the dog fights and tearing their throats out with his teeth.

He hates it when murderous thoughts like that cross his mind It reminds him of the things he did in the Gallery, killing people, raping them, saving them through doing those things. Why did he save them while he destroyed bits and pieces of himself on the inside?

On a particularly bad day, when Master Javid is playing with him. They've already fucked. Bran is sated. Javid seems pleased, albeit a bit worried as well.

The doctor's finger's reach over to glide over Bran's stubbled jawline. "Sweet Bran, you are far away today. You seem troubled. What is on your mind?"

When Bran doesn't answer, Javid whispers. "Use your words, Bran. Let me help you."

Instantly, Bran is transported back in the Mistress's parlor, a man is on his knees pleading with her, and with him.

 _'I tried to help you.'_ the man had said. _'I was trying to help you!'_

Bran can taste blood, hear himself growling and barking, hear his Mistress's pleasure in the background as he kills the supposed traitor to save him from the Catacombs.

No one can help Bran. He's beyond that now.

Bran must have blacked out. The next thing he knows, he's covered in blood, he tastes copper in his mouth and Doctor Javid is holding a gaping, bloody wound at his neck, his eyes wide and looking up to Bran in shock.

_Holy fuck. What did I do? What did I do?_

Leaping off of the bed, Bran runs to the door and wrenches it open to bark at the guards in the hallway. He probably should have used his words, but he's in a panic and barking is what he does.

The guards look surprised to see him covered in blood. They rush in and, after a moment of surprise over the state of Javid, naked and bleeding profusely from the neck, they lift the doctor from his bed to carry him out into the hallway.

Javid watches Bran on the way out, blood is dripping from the corner of his mouth as he whispers. "It's okay, Bran. It's okay."

It's not okay.

Other guards take Bran up to the harem room. He isn't sure when he started crying, but everything is blurry when he tries to see Dare, Lily, Jai, JB and Kyle as they all converge on him. They take him into the bathroom and turn the showers on. They start to clean the blood off of him.

"Bran, what the hell happened, sweetheart?" Dare asks.

Bran knows it isn't the first time they've seen blood on him. This is the first time they've seen blood on him _here_ though. Bran just shakes his head. He doesn't want them to know that he's so despicable that he killed someone as nice and as harmless as Doctor Javid. They'll see him not as someone who protects them, but as the murderer and rapist the Gallery turned him into. Bran doesn't want them to see him.

Mikael will probably send him away now. What will Bran do without his people? He knows he won't survive out there alone. Or maybe Mikael will kill him, put Bran out of his misery now that he knows the truth of him.

Bran cries harder. His breaths coming short and quick.

Hands cup either side of his face and he looks up to see Jai standing before him. Jai, who cries every day, still. Jai, who Bran loves so much. Jai, who Bran used to look to for everything when he wasn't with his Mistress. Jai, who barely says anything anymore.

"You are not alone." Jai says simply. "Breathe, Bran."

Bran instinctively does what Jai has told him to do. He breathes. He breathes long and slow. And eventually he pushes everything else out of his mind so that he can count. Counting is the only thing he puts his effort into.

One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one. One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one.

"We're with you." JB says, lacing his fingers with Bran's and squeezing lightly.

One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one. One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one.

Lily's delicate hand pets up and down his spine. "You a very good dog, Bran. You are our good dog."

One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one.

"Let's go lay down." Dare turns off the water and grabs a towel. He dries Bran's skin from top to bottom.

They end up in a pile on the big pallet with Bran in the middle. Lily brings his alligator toy over and Bran takes it without hesitation. He lays there surrounded by his people for a long time. Their hands pet him. They whisper to him that he's a good dog, that he isn't alone. His eyes are closed, puffy and red from crying. He worries the green material of the alligator between his teeth.

It's hours later that the doors to the harem room open. Bran doesn't look up. The room is still silent for several moments before he hears his name.

"Bran, come here, please." It's Mikael.

As Bran untangles himself from the others, he decides he needs to be a dog right now. Instead of standing, he stays on all fours. He has his alligator in his mouth as he crawls over to where Mikael is sitting in a chair across the room. When he gets close, he sits back on his heels.

"Closer."

Bran crawls closer until he's between Mikael's knees.

Mikael reaches a hand out to ruffle his fingers through Bran's hair atop his head. "First of all, Javid is stable and well. He'll recover."

It might have been a whine, except that suddenly Bran is crying again and it turns into a muffled sob of relief around the material of his alligator.

"He says that you had a strange episode of sorts. He doesn't think that you meant to attack him. Did you mean to attack him, Bran?"

This time Bran does whine as he shakes his head.

Mikael's hand slides down to cup Bran's cheek. "Of course you didn't. Something happened that took you out of the situation, didn't it?"

Bran nods. Mikael nods too, as if he understands.

"I won't tell you that what you did is okay. It's not. But Javid will be okay. So will you." Mikael sits back, lights a cigarette. "I'm afraid I've kept something from you that might help you. I kept it from you out of my own bitterness over the circumstances of the Gallery's demise. I can see that now. I can see that I need to get past my anger and selfishness and do what is necessary to help you."

It's all so cryptic that Bran has no idea what to say. Even if he knew what to say, he isn't sure he can make words happen right now. The lump in his throat is too big. Tears still streak down his cheeks. He feels like blood is all over him and he can't get it off. Javid's blood, the blood of others, so many others. Blood that has been building and building, coat after coat, for years.

There are not enough showers in the world to make Bran feel clean.

"Tonight, I want you to prepare to work as you always do. But I want you to kneel by my table tonight." Mikael leans in and takes hold of the alligator. When he pulls on it, Bran clamps his teeth down and whines. In the end, he submits and lets Mikael have the toy.

"Do you understand, Bran?" Mikael asks.

Bran barks.

Mikael nods and lets Bran take the toy in his teeth again. He grips Bran's chin and waits until Bran is looking at him. "You'll be a good dog for me tonight. I'll see you this evening."


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

That evening, Bran blindly lets Dare repaint his finger and toenails a matte black color. He lets Lily apply dramatic kol around his eyes. He lets her put dark rouge on his cheekbones to make his sharp features even sharper. Then he lets Jai buckle the black harness around his torso. He doesn't say a word through all of this.

The silence isn't because his mind is racing. His mind is still, on singular repetitive path that he won't be deterred from. It's on this path because he's scared to step outside of that counting zone. He just continues to count, again and again, in his mind. He counts up to five and back down, frightened to veer left or right from that path because everything else is dangerous territory, horrible things that have to do with himself and the things he's done, things he never talks about but can never forget.

Bran isn't ready to go there yet. He also knows he's slowly killing himself by not going there. His insides are rotting away. They have been for awhile and Bran has tried to ignore it. He can't ignore it anymore. He almost killed Javid.

Why is what happened with Javid so different from the numerous others he's killed or worse? No one was holding a gun to someone's head. There was no Mistress or Yani there who would punish him if he didn't do as he was told. There are no Catacombs anymore, no Brutes. The enemy was his own mind this time.

Poor Javid, who has been so kind to him, so patient. Bran repays him with an insanity that's in a worse state than Bran has realized. Bran is pain. Pain is Bran. Right is wrong. Wrong is right.

It makes sense though. You can only bottle things up for so long before they have to escape some way, somehow. Javid is an innocent victim. They're all innocent victims in their own way, the people Bran has killed and raped, the harem and Bran himself. The difference is that Javid has been Bran's innocent victim when he didn't have to be. Bran can't even blame survival on what he'd done.

Bran's sharp edges are absent. His words missing. So he counts. Counting is all there is.

He waits patiently on the floor as the others get ready. Then Jai gets his leash and hooks it to his collar. Jai reaches for the alligator in Bran's mouth. Bran bites it harder so that Jai has to work it free until Bran finally gives in and lets the other man have it. Jai tosses it to the pallet they'll eventually be sleeping on when their shift is over. Then he leads Bran out by his leash.

Bran paws after him, not knowing what's in store for him tonight. He wishes he could stay hidden and invisible in the harem room. He wishes he could be one of the nameless, faceless people cleaning tables and delivering drinks.

On the first floor, the bar has just opened and the club itself is hardly as full as it will become later in the evening. Some of the Masters and Mistresses that work for Mikael are here. As he's led to the pallet by Mikael's booth, a pallet that Derek would normally kneel on, he feels like maybe they're looking at him strangely.

They must know, he thinks. They know that he tried to rip Master Javid's throat out with his teeth. Again, Bran wants to disappear.

Mikael is already in the booth. Derek is sitting with him, fully clothed. Bran's leash is passed off to Mikael before Jai nods and goes to the front coat room.

When Bran is settled on his knees, Derek slides out and squats down in front of him. He leans in to wrap his arms around Bran and hold him for a minute. When he pulls back, he waits for Bran to look up into his eyes. "You're gonna be okay."

Nothing is okay.

Derek says goodbye to Mikael. They kiss. They speak softly enough to one another that Bran can't hear what they're saying. Then Derek leaves.

Mikael's hand rests in Bran's hair, fingers curling and scratching at his scalp through the thick mop. Bran is only half present. He's busy looking for his people. He assigns them each a number. Each time he sees Jai, Lily, Dare or the twins, he thinks their number. There's no order to it.

Three, Four, Three, Five, Four, One, Three, One, Two, Four... and so on.

If he steps outside of that lane, the lane of counting the heads of his people, he isn't sure he can keep himself from crying, from spiraling even deeper into this black hole he's descended into.

For the first half of the night, he kneels just like this. Eventually, the place has too many people in it for him to keep track of those that are his. Instead he closes his eyes and listens to the thud of the base beat of whatever music that's playing. He listens to the slap of leather against skin as one of the Master's plays with their pet on stage. He listens to Mikael order himself two more drinks.

...two more drinks?

Bran opens his eyes to see another man sitting in the booth across from Mikael. When he looks up, he meets green eyes, tanned skin, brown hair, a beard and long hair pulled back into a bun. He knows this man. He knows him from the Gallery.

The corners of the man's lips pinch just a bit in a small smile. Those green eyes are still too soft and gracious for the kind of talk Bran remembers from the group he was gathered with in the Mistress's parlor.

"Hello, Bran." The man says. "You're being such a good dog."

Usually, Bran might have growled. He would have glared. He would have snapped his teeth. He's in such a low place right now though. He glances at Mikael in confusion and then desperately looks back out toward the main room, looking for heads to count.

He vaguely hears his name being called, as if it's far away and not right next to him. A slight tug on the leash connected to his collar pulls him back to the two men sitting at the booth beside him. He hears Mikael saying his name.

"Bran. Look at me." Bran looks over to Mikael. "This is Master Gregory. He says you might remember him from the Gallery." When Bran just looks at Mikael and not at 'Master Gregory', Mikael continues. "Do you remember him?"

Again, Bran says nothing, just looks at Mikael. Words are hard. He doesn't understand what someone from the Gallery is doing here. Is Bran being sent back to whatever of the Gallery is trying to rebuild? Is he being sent away from his people?

"Answer me." Mikael, as usual, leaves no room for a 'no'.

Bran barks.

"Well, you might remember Javid mentioning Master Gregory while we were still at my late brother's house. I looked for him for you, because Javid was right that he would be a good fit for you as he very much enjoys dogs." With the next bit, Mikael's eyes narrow and his voice turns cold. Ocean blue eyes turn to ice. "Imagine my surprise to find out he's an undercover agent from France."

What? Finally, Bran looks over to Master Gregory. Green eyes look back at him. This man is one of the people who brought the Gallery down.

"As you know that Agent Jesse Mendez is the reason my Derek and I parted for some time, you can understand why the surprise of that discovery turned me off of allowing him anywhere near you." Mikael continues. "It is quite unnerving when someone you thought a friend is someone you hardly know at all."

"Mikael..." Master Gregory gently shakes his head, his gaze never leaving Bran.

Those green eyes look like they can see into him, kind and gentle and all-knowing. Bran finally has to look away. He looks down to the floor. He doesn't want anyone to really _see_ him. He's a very bad dog and an even worse excuse for a human being.

"Our entire friendship has been a lie, Gregory." Mikael snaps.

"No, if that were true I would have to turn you in along with those in the Gallery, but I haven't done that, have I, Mikael?" Gregory's hand gestures to the club, down to Bran. "Because you are doing all of this. And because you are my friend."

Mikael takes a moment to sip at his wine glass. He sounds none too pleased with the next: "In any case, you're here now."

"Oui. I'm here now."

There seems to be a stand off between the two here. Bran can't see it because he's staring intently at the edge of the pallet he's kneeling on. But the air turns tense in an extended silence before it seems to ease up a bit and both men at the table clink glasses and drink from theirs respectively. It's a reluctant, uneasy alliance, forged for Bran's benefit. An alliance where both men have to do something they're unaccustomed to doing. They have to set aside their egos.

"Bran, I want you to go with Master Gregory into one of the private rooms." Mikael says. "If you would like me to join you, I can."

Bran remembers everything Gregory had said about him, the way he'd seemed like a dichotomy in a room full of monsters. That makes sense now, he supposes. The man works for the French Government. He's one of the men who took the Gallery down from the inside. He's had this man's dick in his mouth and he has no idea who he is or how he'll be treated with him.

Right now, deep down, Bran almost hopes he's treated horribly. It's no less than he deserves.

"Do you wish for me to go with you, Bran?" Mikael asks, his hand resting on Bran's shoulder.

It's paralyzing, because Bran doesn't want to have a choice right now. Bran wants to be told what to do. In that way of thinking, he rewinds to what Mikael initially said he wants him to do. He rewinds and goes with what his gut tells him to do, go in wishing for the worst and hope he gets what he deserves. He almost wishes he were still fighting in the dog fights so that he could purposefully lose a fight, get beaten within an inch of his life, maybe even more than that. Maybe he could just have someone else end it for him. The others are safe here. They don't need him. They have Derek.

Bran shakes his head at Mikael. No, he'll go into a room with this unknown entity from the Gallery alone. He'll accept whatever horror comes his way.

The two Masters exchange another look that says more than Bran can understand. Then Gregory nods and Mikael hands Bran's leash over to him.

Gregory stands and Bran automatically paws after him without a backward glance toward Mikael. He doesn't want to question this. He just wants to accept his fate.

Bran has never been in one of the curtained rooms off to the side. There are four of them at Passion. The one they enter has a guard and a sign that reads 'RESERVED' outside of it. Mikael must have reserved it for him and Gregory.

The room is comfortably lit, not too bright and not so dark that you can't see the amber walls, the plush black seating scattered about, a hanging modern statement piece chandelier and black and gold pallets spread over the floor.

Master Gregory pulls one of those pallets close to where he eventually sits in the center of a 'C' shaped couch. Bran gets his knees on the pallet and then sits back on his ankles. The Master leans forward and pets at Bran's hair, at his face, at his ears.

They're silent for a good while as Gregory pets Bran before his hand finally rests at Bran's shoulder. "You look so weary, Bran. As if you have the weight of the entire world on your shoulders and you can barely stand the enormity of it."

Gregory's index finger presses beneath Bran's chin. Bran looks up into green eyes that seem too nice for him. He deserves the evil, cunning of the Mistress and Yani, of the Brutes in the Catacombs. A part of this man must have those qualities too, right? He was in the top rung of the pyramid of the Gallery. He can't have gotten there by being kind.

Bran decides to try to bring that evil out. Without warning, he snaps his teeth at that index finger, catching it and biting hard.

The act earns him a light bap on the nose that startles him enough to get him to let go. He hates it when people do that, mostly because it always works. "You do not have permission to bite me. Yet." He goes back to petting Bran. "Be a good dog, Bran. I know you're a good dog. You're just lost and hurting right now. You have no Master to guide you."

Bran can't see his people. He counts anyway. One, two, three, four, five... five, four, three, two, one.

"Mikael and Derek have told me all that they know about you." Gregory continues. "I'm afraid you have been sorely mistreated. The Mistress was never as good to her pets as she made herself seem."

The Master grows silent again, petting Bran and guiding him to rest his cheek against his thigh. Bran eventually closes his eyes and lets the gentle touch calm him. The music outside in the main room sounds far away. Bran is more comfortable than he deserves to be.

"I know that the Mistress, and the Gallery itself, taught you that everything should be pain. I want to retrain you to understand that that is not the case. You can be a good dog without all of that. If you want to fight then you can, but it is not a necessity. If you want to bite then you can, but it is not a necessity."

One, two, three, four, five... five, four, three, two, one.

Gregory cups a hand beneath Bran's chin and lifts his head from his thigh. Bran opens his eyes to look up at the other man. The pad of Gregory's thumb glides over Bran's cheek. "You can be a sweet puppy, Bran. I know this. Will you work with me?"

Another choice. Bran doesn't want to have a choice. He wants things to be easier than that. Make it hurt. Go fight for me. Go with that other Master and let him degrade you in every way. Go kill for me. Go rape for me. Good dogs do as their Mistress tells them.

_Don't think. Just count. Just count._

One, two, three, four, five... five, four, three, two, one.

"Bran?" Gregory pets his thumb over Bran's stubbled cheek again. "Is it too much to ask?" The man leans forward to cup either side of Bran's face. "Oh, my sweet dog, you are so lost right now. You are your own worst enemy, lost in your mind as you are."

Green eyes shift even closer until Bran can't see them as lips are pressed to his brow. "I'll work with you. And when you are ready to choose, you can do so. I'll work with you, Bran."

Bran feels his eyes well with tears. He tries to count them away, up to five and back down again, over and over until he's conquered those tears, all except for one. Gregory swipes his thumb over that one escaped tear, taking it for himself. Bran is glad to let him have it. He doesn't want it.

 

* * *

 

The rest of that evening is spent in that private room with Gregory touching him, petting him, soft and gentle. Bran zones out for most of it. It feels good. He's more comfortable than should be allowed of him. Nothing more is asked of him than this. Bran is so accustomed to the touch that he misses it when Gregory finally takes his leash and leads him back out into the club.

Passion is closing for the evening.

Mikael calls Dare over and asks him to take Bran upstairs and stay with him. Dare does so. As Bran is being led away, he hears Mikael ask Gregory how it went. In his mind, Bran imagines Gregory telling Mikael how uneventful it was. How whatever he hoped to accomplish was impossible because Bran himself is impossible.

_Bad dog. Bad dog, Bran._


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

That night, Bran's sleep is restless. He dreams he's drowning in blood. Faces of the people he's raped and killed look at him accusingly. Each of them has a bullet in their brain because Bran tried to do the right thing. Bran wakes up and spends most of the night awake, feeling warm bodies around him.

He counts. He breathes in and out. Eventually night turns into day.

The harem goes through their morning routine. Bran is cleaned and helps clean the others. Bran is slicked up and helps the others. Bran is given a plug and he helps to push them into the others.

He's on the pallet beside Jai shortly after that, worrying his alligator between his teeth and counting in his mind when Master Gregory steps inside. Green eyes land on Bran and he smiles a bit at seeing him. Instead of the suit and tie Gregory had worn last night, today he's in jeans and a tee.

As if he owns the place, Gregory walks to the dressing room and disappears inside. He reappears with the black leather leash with silver studs lining it. He moves over to Bran and hooks the leash to Bran's spiked collar.

"Do you want to bring your toy?" Gregory asks.

Bran considers that for just a moment. Yes, he wants to bring it. But he doesn't trust people out there not to take it from him. He trusts Jai. So he sets the alligator on Jai's lap with his teeth. Jai nods at him, understanding.

"This is his favorite, Sir." Jai says simply.

Master Gregory nods. "Oui. I understand. And your name?"

"I am Jai, Sir."

"Thank you for keeping Bran's toy safe, Jai."

"I remember you, Sir. You were a friend of my Mistress." Jai continues, speaking more now than he has since they were taken from the Gallery. "Or a friend turned traitor to her. Did you betray her?"

"I did what I was meant to do."

Jai considers this for a moment, then looks to Bran. "If he betrayed one, he could betray all. His disloyalty makes him undeserving of you, Bran. Remember that. Remember what your Mistress does to traitors."

Their Mistress demands that Bran rape and kill traitors. Bran vigorously counts in his mind, up to five, back down, repetitive, safe. Counting is safe.

Bran follows behind Gregory, but the man stops where Bran's dog bowls are. He picks up a tennis ball and the knotted rope toy. Then he leads Bran out to the hallway. They get in the elevator and it goes down to a lower floor and stops. It's the same floor where Doctor Javid lives, Bran notes. He hopes they aren't going to see Javid. Bran isn't ready to see him yet.

Thankfully, they go to a different room. The bedroom layout is similar. There's a suitcase with international tags still on the handle in the corner, somewhat unpacked. There's a bathroom adjoining the room.

Gregory closes the door and lets go of Bran's leash. He moves over to open the window to let some fresh air in. He turns on some music on a small iPod dock. The first song is some Frank Sinatra, crooning some ballad that takes Bran back to his childhood. His mom had loved Ol' Blue Eyes, he remembers. What would his mom think of him now?

_Don't go there Bran. Count._

One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one.

The Master removes his loafers, leaving his feet bare, then pads over to sit on the carpeted floor, his back against the side of the bed. The rope and ball are set beside him. He taps his fingers against the floor at his other side. "Come here, Bran."

Bran crawls forward, deep into his head space of thinking like a dog. It's easier this way. He pads his palms against Gregory's hand as he rests down in perfect rest position and then proceeds to lick at Gregory's hand, tiny flicks of his tongue over the man's fingers.

This seems to please the Master. He grins and chuckles, lifting his fingers up in a silent acquiescence to Bran's attentions. "Such a sweet dog." Bran is allowed to lick to his heart's content for some time before Gregory finally pulls his hand away and pets at Bran's hair.

"I want to talk to you. You are free to speak in reply but it is not required right now. Fair warning that I will eventually want you to talk to me."

Gregory doesn't wait for a reply. He puts a hand to the side of Bran's head. "Rest your head, sweet Bran and listen to me."

Once Bran is settled with his head on Gregory's thigh, the Master's hand petting in his hair, he continues. "The Gallery was of such a massive scale that it took many people, from all over the world, a collective global effort between multiple Government factions to bring it down. I was vetted for the operation over twelve years ago."

He chuckles and his hand leaves Bran's hair long enough so that he can scratch at his beard, dark but peppered with gray. "I'm a bit older than you, I'm afraid."

Bran isn't exactly a spring chicken, but yeah, it sounds like Gregory is older than him.

"I've been in the Gallery for years, over ten, close to eleven. I lose count sometimes. At times it feels like an eternity. I did what I had to do to get deep, to get to the top, to know all the players and their sins. I have my own fair share of sins, as do you. I'm free from that filth now, just like you are. But that does not really unchain us from the past, does it? From the things we've seen and done, from the way those things twist our minds around."

Those fingers continue to comb through his hair and Bran wishes that Gregory's words didn't make so much sense to him. Bran doesn't want to think. He doesn't want to understand. He wants to count. He just wants to count.

"You're a good dog who was in a horrible situation. You are not what they made you do. Those actions, the decisions you were forced to make, do not define you. Are you able to speak yet, Bran?"

Bran says nothing. He counts.

"It's okay. Soon." He says. "I went to therapy for almost two years since the Gallery's fall. Needless to say, when Mikael contacted me and found out the truth, he was none too happy. I understand that. I wish he had called me in to help you earlier, but I understand why he didn't. He has been caring for all of you and he doesn't trust me anymore."

For awhile, Gregory just pets Bran, fingers and palm sliding over Bran's skin, tracing scars and looking at him. The Master never looks away as if he's learning everything about Bran's physical self and committing it to memory.

The silence is as welcome as Gregory's gentle touch. Bran starts to count again, up to five and back down, up to five and back down, and again, again, until Gregory starts to speak again.

"I understand why your friend Jai is upset with me. He still loves the Mistress." Gregory finally continues. "From what I understand, you have been caring for every one of the others, watching after them, taking care of them. They're safe now, Bran. It is time for you to take care of yourself."

Fingertips gently glide over Bran's jaw line to tilt Bran's head up. Bran looks up into green eyes. "I want you to answer me now, Bran. Do you still love the Mistress as Jai does?"

Bran just barely shakes his head. He had loved her in some warped, twisted way. She had never loved him though. He was nothing more than her rabid dog to her.

"Do you like to play ball?" Gregory picks up the tennis ball and holds it to Bran's lips. Bran tries to take the ball with his teeth. The Master chuckles and tosses the ball across the room. Bran instinctively runs to get it and brings it back.

They play like that for awhile. Bran likes the doing something instead of having to listen to Gregory talk anymore. Each time he returns with the ball Gregory smiles at him. Bran feels like he's being a good dog. He'd needed to feel like a good dog again.

Gregory picks up the rope and they play with it too, Bran tugging on it with his teeth and Gregory holding tightly to the other end. Neither of them really go at it. It's all show so as not to hurt Bran's teeth. Eventually, Bran is allowed to curl up on a pallet and sleep while Gregory opens his laptop and does some work. Gregory puts on some glasses that don't look half bad on him.

When the time comes when Bran would usually prepare to work for the evening, Gregory begins to change into a suit and tie. Bran watches him. Gregory's entire back is covered in a tattoo, a tree with sprawling branches. Several of the branches have what looks like daggers hanging from them. There's some script at the base of the tree that Bran can't make out.

Once he's dressed, Gregory takes Bran's leash and leads him downstairs. They exit the elevator on the first floor and Bran spots the others already in the room. Passion has just opened. He wishes he could go to the coat room just to see that Jai is okay with his own eyes. Instead, he's led to a booth. Gregory pulls the pallet close and Bran kneels on it next to him.

They sit like that throughout the night. Bran gets to count the heads of his people. Dare winks at Bran and Lily smiles when they pass by him. Sometimes Master Gregory's hand rests at the back of his neck or his fingers pet through Bran's hair. It's an uneventful night.

In fact, nothing eventful happens for two weeks. Gregory comes to get Bran from the harem room every morning. They end up in Gregory's room where sometimes he listens to Gregory talk for hours on end. Sometimes Bran just lays beside Gregory on a pallet while the other man works on his laptop. Sometimes Gregory throws the ball or they play with the rope. When it's time for Passion to open, Gregory takes Bran downstairs. Bran kneels by Gregory all night. Then Gregory takes him back to the harem room where Bran sleeps and they start all over the next day.

Bran learns that Gregory has a sister who is happily married and has a son, which gives Gregory a nephew that he's only just recently met. His father has passed away but his mother is still alive. She's in assisted living due to Alzheimer disease. There are times when she doesn't remember who Gregory is. 

The Master is still filing reports on the Gallery and that's what he's typing away at on his laptop when they're lounging about. Sometimes Gregory is also playing World of Warcraft, which amuses Bran. He learns that Gregory likes to travel a lot. He likes doing extreme sports like propelling down a mountain or sky diving or white water rafting. He learns that Gregory used to be deep into the Paris BDSM scene and didn't know that he had a kink for pet play, specifically dogs, until he became entrenched in the Gallery.

While Gregory goes on and on, Bran never says anything. Sometimes he barks when Gregory asks him something. Sometimes he whines. Mostly, he just listens to the Master and counts in his mind when the other man isn't speaking or when what he's speaking about makes Bran uncomfortable.

Eventually though, as promised, Gregory prods him to speak.

Bran is lounging alongside Gregory. For almost three weeks he's been coming to this room every day with Master Gregory. Jai doesn't approve. Bran can't blame Jai. Bran also can't say no. Bran also secretly enjoys the respite from everything. In this room it feels like some of the weight is lifted from his shoulders. Very little is asked of him in here. Obviously this can't last. But he enjoys the nothingness while he has it.

A few moments ago the typing of laptop keys has silenced and Gregory has begun to pet at Bran's skin. That gentle touch isn't something new and shiny anymore. Bran is used to it. Bran likes it.

"I want you to speak to me, Bran. I want to know how you're feeling right now." Gregory says, waiting patiently. When Bran simply lays there in silence, he prompts more. "Do you feel comfortable?"

Bran yips an affirmative.

"Do you enjoy my touch?"

Another yip.

"Tell me how it feels."

Words. Dogs don't speak. Bran wants so badly to be a dog, to remain a dog, to stay hidden. He whines.

"No, my sweet Bran. I want you to use your words. Tell me how my touch feels on your skin." Gregory says.

Again, Bran is silent for awhile. Gregory is so damn patient that Bran has no idea what to do with his patience. The Master waits for a long time, then gives Bran the same prompt again, then waits.

It's the third time Gregory has prompted him when Bran finally says one word. "Soft."

"Do you like being touched this way?"

Yes. He likes it. He feels guilty for liking and accepting it. The question should be whether or not he deserves to be touched this way. That answer is emphatically no.

Bran counts.

"Bran?" Gregory's fingers trace the shell of Bran's ear, lightly scratch at the skin behind his ear. "Do you like it when I touch you?"

Bran yips.

"Yes or no?"

Bran presses his lips together and nods. After a moment he answers with a quiet 'yeah'.

"How does it make you feel?"

Talking about his feelings isn't something Bran has ever been good at, even before he got this fucked up in the head, even before words were so hard. Gregory is patient with him once again, he persistently asks the question again every few minutes, his fingertips still smoothing over Bran's skin.

Bran inevitably finds a couple of words, probably not the words the other man wants to hear. "Like shit."

Gregory's hands still on the side of Bran's neck. "Why does it make you feel like shit?"

"Just get to it, okay?"

"Get to what, Bran?"

"The real you. Whatever you really wanna do with me. Just get to it already. You don't have to be nice to me."

"The real me?"

"Yeah. The asshole who okay'd mass murder; the real you. Do you know how many people died before Mikael got us out of there?"

"Do you know how many we saved?" Gregory asks.

Bran is surprised that he has no answer to that. He has no clue. He hasn't thought about anyone but his six (and then five) making it out of there alive. And in some cases 'alive' is debatable.

"I know that you don't trust me yet, Bran, but I can assure you that this is the real me. On my own time, I never do anything I don't want to do."

The word 'trust' reminds Bran of what Jai has said a few weeks before. _'If he betrayed one, he could betray all. His disloyalty makes him undeserving of you, Bran.'_ Jai had said. _'Remember that. Remember what your Mistress does to traitors.'_

Dogs are loyal creatures. In this way, Bran fits that definition to a T. His loyalties lie with Jai. They'll always lie with Jai as far as Bran can see.

"If you think I'm ever gonna trust you, you're delusional. You betray one, you can betray all."

"You listen to Jai. I understand. Jai is hurting. He loved the Mistress." Gregory shakes his head, pushing some of Bran's short locks back behind his ears. "You do not love the Mistress, you said. You no longer belong to her."

"If I still belonged to her, you'd be one dead motherfucker by now."

"Because she would have you kill me."

Bran doesn't respond because it seems like a no-brainer to him. Yeah, he'd kill Gregory because the Mistress would tell him to, because death is better than whatever the hell happens in the Catacombs. Mercy killings are still murder.

"How many people have you killed, Bran?"

The question is blunt and straight-forward. There's no judgement or malice in the question as much as Bran is looking for either. Gregory watches him with those same kind eyes that he always does. Fuck that. Bran wishes Gregory would punish him.

"I don't know." He shrugs.

It's disturbing not to know how many people you've killed anymore. Too many. They haunt Bran, especially when he sleeps.

Bran counts, up to five and back down. His brow furrows, whatever bluster he'd momentarily grasped visibly deflating. "Can I just be a dog?"

Gregory's fingers comb back through Bran's hair. "Yes, Bran. Be what you want to be. We'll talk again tomorrow."


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

While Gregory doesn't make Bran speak for the rest of the day and into the night in Passion, he's true to his word and tries to talk to Bran again the next day. They've just played ball for awhile. Bran is now resting and catching his breath from running around so much.

"Bran." Gregory says. "I want you to speak with me for a little while, just like yesterday."

In the vein of trying to distract Gregory from making him talk, Bran grabs the rope with his teeth and growls, shoulders down at the floor and his ass in the air.

His attempt to play only serves to make the Master smile a bit and shake his head. "Later, sweet puppy. We'll play again in a little while. Let me have it."

Bran begrudgingly gives up the rope when Gregory pinches one end in his fingers. Bran rolls onto his back with a heavy sigh and stares up at the ceiling. The Master's hand splays over Bran's abdomen, fingers petting at the skin.

"Yesterday you told me that I don't have to be nice to you. I want you to know that I know that. I know that I don't have to do anything. I want to be nice to you, even if you think you're undeserving of it." Gregory's hand stills over Bran's sternum at his chest. "That's it, isn't it? You do not think that you deserve kindness."

Bran counts, up to five and back down.

"Bran, you're letting the things that the Mistress made you do define you. They don't have to. You don't have to be that person."

Bran counts again. Always counting. Counting is easier.

"Bran, say something."

"Something." The flippant remark is out before Bran really thinks about it. A spike of nerves rises in him and prompts him to say more. "I don't have to be a rabid dog?"

"No, you can be sweet."

"I don't have to fight and kill and fuck and make it hurt?"

"No, sweet Bran, no."

"Guess I'm all better now then." Apparently, he just can't help himself. Maybe he's more comfortable around Gregory than he's realized.

Bran's sarcasm makes Gregory laugh. "Of course you're not. But I can help you. And I think you know that you are being harder on yourself than anyone else who knows the circumstances of the Gallery would be." He says. "The other pets from the Mistress's harem, those that are left, do you not notice how they look to you when they're uncertain about something? Do you think they would do that if they thought of you in the same way you think of yourself?"

"They don't know all the things I've done."

"Jai knows. The Mistress shared everything with him. He knows, Bran. And he still looks to you for strength and support." Gregory says. "Do you think he would look to someone he couldn't trust and depend on?"

No. Jai is too damn smart for that.

"Jai wants me to kill you." Bran says.

"Because he knows that you used to kill anyone the Mistress deemed traitor."

Bran loses his words again. He counts. How much does Gregory know about him? Why is Gregory so nice to him if he knows everything? Why the heck does Jai look to him for strength if he knows everything?

"Breathe, Bran. You're shaking." Gregory's fingers trace soothing circles over Bran's chest as Bran draws in a deep breath of air.

"I'm tired." Bran breathes the words out.

"Would you like to rest for a bit?"

"No," No, in sleep there's only blood and screams and crying and violence and pain. In sleep there's only death. Bran isn't sleepy. "I'm _tired_. I just want..."

"What do you want, sweet Bran?"

"To be done. Everything is hard. There's no one to fight anymore." What is Bran when his ability to fight is stripped away? Bran doesn't much care for that picture. When he doesn't fight, he's...

_I'm a bitch._

Bran remembers being made to let another dog fuck him even after he won the fights. He was made to roll over and submit. He was the champion, degraded and humiliated at his Mistress's command. He was made to call himself a bitch.

He reiterates his point from before. "I'm tired."

"I understand now." Gregory nods slowly, green eyes carrying with them a hint of sadness. "Do you miss the fighting, Bran?"

"Kind of."

"Explain."

Bran really hates having to talk. He also knows that he has to talk to get back to being a dog again. "Fighting and killing are the only things I'm good at. I don't... know who I am anymore. I hurt Doctor Javid. I'm probably gonna hurt you. That's what I do now. I fuck things up. Everything hurts and I don't know what to do when it doesn't hurt."

When Gregory doesn't say anything, Bran fills the silence. "I'm fucked up, okay? I'm not a good dog. I'm bad. I destroy all the good things that happen to me."

"What have you destroyed, Bran?"

"I almost killed Doctor Javid. The Mistress, she quit wanting me with her except for fights. I don't know what I did wrong. And now you... you're trying to be all nice to me. And you know what? I'm gonna fuck that up too."

"You are not a self fulfilling prophecy, Bran. You can make decisions to change directions for yourself." Gregory's thumb presses against one of Bran's nipples, fondling the pert nub. "You haven't destroyed the pets who live here and look to you."

"Not all of us survived."

"That is not your fault. You cannot take the blame for the actions and decisions of others." Gregory says. "You're giving yourself too much power when you do that, Bran. You are one person. You're a dog. You protect, but you do not make the decisions of others."

Maybe Gregory is right. Bran has to rewire his brain to accept what he has no control over. That's easier said than done though.

It's only when Gregory is pinching the other nipple that Bran realizes that he's arching up into the touch. He looks up into green eyes that are watching him with appreciation. Bran feels compelled to say something.

"So are you gonna fuck me, or what?"

Gregory laughs, a full and rich sound. "Do you want me to fuck you, Bran?"

"Yeah." It's the truth. It's been too damn long since someone who isn't in the harem has fucked him. Maybe it's strange that it makes a difference to be fucked outside of that. Javid had given him that for awhile. Then Bran messed that up.

"Are you good at fucking, Bran?"

"You tell me." Bran rolls to his side and nuzzles his face in the crotch of Gregory's jeans. The memory of sucking Gregory off in the Mistress's living room is suddenly very vivid. Surprisingly enough, it makes Bran hard. He's been here before. He wants to do it again.

"I know you're good at that, sweet puppy. I want to be inside of you in another way now." Gregory slides his hand down Bran's side and around to the plug in Bran's ass. He pushes on it and twists it a bit.

Bran emits a heady whine, his ass pressing back against the plug that Gregory is playing with. "You're already hard. Your jeans are about to burst. Fuck me."

"Perhaps if you ask kindly."

Bran smirks. It's obvious they both want it. Gregory is teasing him. Bran decides to tease him too, getting up on all fours with his ass presented to Master Gregory. He wiggles his hips just a bit, arches his spine to present himself to Gregory in the most obscene way.

"Fucking fuck me already, please." There's a beat here before Bran adds one more word. "Sir."

It's such a relief when he hears the other man shift, hears the pop of a button and the pull of a zipper. Gregory plays with the plug a bit more. Bran's body shifts with it, trying to get it out so that Gregory can put something else inside. He isn't in control though. Gregory continues to toy with him.

"I think you can ask better than that, sweet pup."

Oh holy hell, Bran is going to go bat shit crazy if Gregory doesn't fuck him soon. The words come out in a rush. "Please fuck me. Please." When Gregory pumps the plug a few more times, Bran whines pitifully.

"What a beautiful sound, Bran." The plug is pulled out and Bran can feel thick cock sliding teasingly along his ass crack. Then he's stretching to accommodate the width of Gregory and everything is this, how it feels, warm and thick and wet with slick.

There is no more drawing anything out. They fuck wildly, like animals. It feels like Bran might have been wanting this for a few weeks now with Gregory, but is only just now accepting that he wants it, that he's getting what he wants. Gregory fucks him hard and fast until Bran can feel his ass full of the Master's cum.

Then Gregory pulls out and lies back. His legs are folded up, baring his ass. Bran is surprised to see the man pulling a plug from his own ass. Has he always worn that?

"Come on, Bran." Gregory encourages him. "Fuck me the same way I just fucked you."

Bran lines himself up and lifts Gregory's hips up. His cock easily slides into the already slicked hole.

"Yes, Bran. Good dog. Fuck me."

Bran fucks Master Gregory then. He loses himself in it. He slams his cock inside like a wild thing until he feels himself reaching that pinnacle of pleasure where he's about to spill. "I'm gonna."

"Yes." Gregory gasps.

That's all the permission Bran needs. He spills inside the Master and continues to pump his hips until he's spilled every last drop. It's pure instinct when he pulls out, holds his own cock and starts to piss on Gregory's abdomen. This is what he was taught. The moment he realizes what he's doing, he stops himself and stares worriedly into green eyes.

Gregory nods at Bran. "Do it." Still, Bran hesitates. Gregory reaches a hand down to pet at Bran's knee. "Do it, sweet puppy. Claim me as yours."

Usually, when Bran pisses on someone after a fight and a fuck it's to degrade them. But Gregory has just put a whole new spin on it.

_Claim me as yours._

It takes a moment or two for Bran to wrap his mind around that. Finally though, he does just as he was told, just as he wants to do. He claims Gregory as his own.

That evening when Gregory is getting ready for Passion to open, he lets Bran shower with him. Bran washes Gregory from head to toe at his command. He washes Gregory's long, dark brown hair and his beard and mustache. He lets Gregory wash him too, lets him shampoo his shaggy shoulder length hair. They both slick one another up with lube and push plugs into each other.

"You always wear this?" Bran asks.

"Most of the time, yes."

"Do you ever wear your hair down?" Bran asks when Gregory puts his hair in the bun it's almost always in.

Gregory smiles a bit. "Sometimes."

"Did you mean what you said?" This is a question Bran hasn't planned to ask. Sometimes he doesn't think before he speaks.

"About what, sweet puppy?"

"About me claiming you as mine."

Gregory straightens his necktie and looks over to Bran. He comes close to where Bran is kneeling, leans down and gently grips Bran's chin, thumb sliding over the stubble. "Do you want me to be yours, Bran? You can choose, you know."

The last time Bran gave in to belonging to someone it was the Mistress. That didn't turn out well for him. He wanted her more than she wanted him. And it hadn't really been a choice to begin with. It was about survival.

This isn't an easy choice. Bran decides to count in his mind instead.

"I'm losing you again." Gregory pets his knuckles over Bran's cheek. "Find your words, Bran. Use them."

"I don't make good choices."

"Meaning?"

"I don't think I should get a choice."

"Not choosing is also a choice." Gregory says. "Do you understand why I told you to claim me as yours when I did?"

"Because dogs piss on things to keep other dogs away." Bran shakes his head. "I've never thought of it like that."

"You weren't taught to think of it in that way. I understand that. I want you to think of it my way, or try to think of it my way. Can you do that? Can you try?"

Bran nods.

"And perhaps someday you will want to claim me as your Master and only yours."

Bran wants to ask Gregory if he wants to claim him in return, but he stays silent. The answer scares him. What if it's no? What if the question rocks the boat too much and ruins this one good thing? What if he destroys the good feeling he has right now with Gregory?

No, silence is best.

That night they sit with Mikael at his table. Bran kneels on a pallet next to Gregory. Derek is kneeling across from him next to Mikael. Derek has some leather outfit on that hugs his skin and is laced up with golden ropes. Bran wears his spiked collar and nothing else.

Derek tries to grin at Bran. Bran looks away. He kind of hates that Derek has his shit together as much as he does while Bran is a fucking mess in every way. Bran also can't seem to look at Mikael, not since he almost killed Javid.

Gregory's hand ruffles through Bran's shaggy mess of hair and then rests at the back of his neck. "I would like to take Bran on a trip with me. Perhaps a week, maybe more."

Mikael's and Derek's eyes are on him, Bran can feel it. Bran is counting heads. With Derek here, it's six, up to six and back down again and again.

"It's up to Bran, of course." Mikael says. He sounds unenthusiastic about the idea though. Mikael has never tried to keep any of them in a cage but it's obvious that he still doesn't trust Gregory. Bran is left with a choice.

A slight tug at Bran's leash brings his eyes back to Gregory. Gregory pets at his ears. "Would you like to travel with me, Bran?"

Can he say no? Does he want to say no? "What about the others?"

"Mikael will look after them as he always does."

"I'll hang out here more too." Derek chimes in. "You can take the cell phone Mikael gave you. Keep in touch."

When Bran still doesn't answer, Derek continues. "You've been out there with me lots of times."

"Not since..."

"Javid is fine."

"Fuck that shit." Bran says sharply. "Why haven't I seen him?"

"He thought you might need some time, Bran. You were very upset over the whole ordeal." Mikael sips at his wine. "However, if you wish to remain here, this is your home."

Bran nods in Gregory's direction. "What if I attack him and no one is around to save him?"

"Let me worry about that, sweet pup." Gregory says.

For weeks Bran has listened to Gregory tell him about himself. Gregory loves traveling. If Bran wants to continue seeing Gregory, he's going to have to travel. Bran doesn't want to say no, he realizes. Even though there are so many reasons he should say no.

"Okay."

Gregory grips Bran's chin again, getting Bran to look back to him. "Does that mean you want to travel with me?"

"Yeah."

"Such short answers. You're nervous. Trust me, Bran and I will keep you safe." Gregory says. "We will return here and your friends will still be here where you left them."

Bran stares at Gregory for a long moment, those kind green eyes that seem to be willing him to say yes, to trust him in spite of what Jai says. Finally, Bran nods.

"It's settled then. I'll make the arrangements and we'll leave in two days."

"You'll have to use your phone to take pictures so the others can see your adventures." Derek says with a grin.

Bran smirks and nods, looking down to the ground.

It's some time later when Mikael whispers something in Derek's ear. Derek seems to blush and then he leans in to kiss Bran. Bran kisses him back. He can taste blood from a bite on Derek's bottom lip and Derek whispers to him that it's okay.

Mikael and Gregory take them both back to one of the side rooms. Most of the time Derek doesn't like to do much more than kiss in the main room and Mikael accommodates him in that way. Cloistered away from anyone else, Derek lets Bran fuck him for the Masters. There's nothing painful about it.

When they're both spent, Bran grabs his dick as if he might piss. Then he pauses. He glances over to Gregory, who's watching him intently. Those green eyes smile at him when Bran doesn't piss on Derek, when he crawls back to Gregory and takes the man's dick into his mouth to please him instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another related work to the A Lion Tamed series from an interesting perspective. Go have a look at [Pretty Kitty and the Brute](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7542577) by [PariPassu](http://archiveofourown.org/users/PariPassu/pseuds/PariPassu).
> 
> Thanks for the love. ♥!


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

In the two days leading up to their departure, Gregory lets Bran spend almost all day with the other pets in the harem. He has no idea where Gregory is taking him and he's okay with that. Bran is a ball of nerves, playing with his alligator and laying beside Jai. Sometimes Jai says things that take Bran back to the mindset of killing traitors. Bran loves Jai. He trusts Jai. But he's also trying to trust Gregory. It puts Bran in a tough spot.

The day before they leave, Derek comes upstairs to get Bran. He tells him to get dressed because Penelope is downstairs and wants to see him.

Initially, Bran says no. He hasn't seen anyone since the Javid incident. But Derek convinces him that it will be okay. Derek helps Bran get dressed and then leads him downstairs.

Penelope is there, looking like a rainbow threw up all over her. She's possibly the prettiest woman Bran has ever met. A room lights up just by her existing in it. She makes Passion look less leather and chains and more like a Sunday morning meet and greet. She's a couple of worlds apart from him.

"Rainbow girl." He greets her in a deadpan tone.

She tries to mimic his tone. "Cream Soda."

As per her usual, she doesn't leave Bran space. She's hugging him tightly. It takes Bran a moment to hug her back, but eventually he does.

"I hear you've had a rough few weeks." She says when she pulls back.

Bran glares at Derek accusingly. Derek just shrugs and gestures to Penelope. "You try telling her no. If she wants to know something, she'll find it out one way or another."

"I'm kinda sneaky and sleuth-like that way. Like a female and much, much better dressed Sherlock Holmes." She says. "Anywho, I also hear you're going away for a few days and I brought you some stuff."

Penelope un-shoulders a medium sized canvas bag with a brightly colored print of cartoon-ish dog faces all over it and hands it over to Bran. "Go ahead, take a look!"

Bran hesitantly unzips the bag and looks inside. There's bags of candy and snacks, some travel size necessities and a few t-shirts. Bran lifts one t-shirt that says 'Who Let the Dogs Out' on it and another one that says 'Will Work for Beer'. The third shirt looks very old and has a faded image of the original Cream Soda bottle on it.

"Looks like she set you up." Derek says.

"Oh! Also..." She digs through the bag for a small box that has an iPod on it. "I put some music on here but if you wanna add more you can cause I know not everyone has as awesome taste in music as I do. So just in case..." She picks out a gift card for iTunes. "Fill her up! Yes, I named your iPod after yours truly. Call her Penelope."

"You didn't have to do this." Bran says. He doesn't intend to sound ungrateful. He just isn't used to people doing nice things without wanting anything in return.

"I know. I just... I want you to know we're still friends no matter what happened." She says. "Right? Friends."

"Yeah... friends." Bran glances back and forth between Derek and Penelope. "Thanks."

 

* * *

 

Bran uses what space that's left in the canvas bag that Penelope gave him to pack two pairs of jeans and some shoes along with phone and charger. Dare slips a bottle of black nail polish in his bag for him. Then Jai adds his toys, including the alligator, and his dog bowls.

"Mikael will get you another alligator if something happens to this one." Jai assures him.

"Derek says you'll take pictures." Dare says, an arm draped around Lily's shoulders. "Lily and me wanna see pictures when you get back."

"I'm not very good at pictures."

"Come on, gorgeous. You're good at lots of things." Dare reaches his other hand out to pat at Bran's arm. "Just try to have fun."

"And be careful. Master Gregory is a confusion." Jai says.

A confusion is better than being called a traitor, Bran guesses. Maybe Jai is coming around. Maybe Bran won't be stuck in the middle of Jai and Gregory anymore.

Bran dresses again in jeans and a tee along with hiking boots that Gregory sent him.

Downstairs, Bran steps out of the elevator to find four people waiting for him. Gregory is there, of course. Mikael and Derek are there too. Beside Mikael is Doctor Javid. Bran stops in his tracks and starts counting.

One, two, three, four, five, six... Six, five, four, three, two, one...

Gregory walks over to Bran and hooks the leash in Bran's collar. The Master leans in to whisper. "It's okay. Come with me."

Bran walks with Gregory over to the others, his gaze on Javid. The Doctor's neck is still bandaged, the gruesome wound hidden behind a block of white gauze.

"Hello, Bran." Javid smiles at him. "Mikael says you might be ready to see me. But if not, I can leave."

One, two, three, four, five, six... Six, five, four, three, two, one...

"Bran, I am fine." Javid assures him. "If you need my forgiveness then you have it. We are still friends, yes?"

One, two, three, four, five, six... Six, five, four, three, two, one...

The Doctor nods at Gregory. "I think it is very good that Gregory is here. And I hope you will enjoy your vacation with him. He is a good fit for you."

One, two, three, four, five, six... Six, five, four, three, two, one...

After a lengthy pause, Javid nods at Mikael and Gregory then walks to the elevator. Bran watches him go the whole way, until the elevator doors close on him, counting silently in his mind. Bran counts. And counts.

"Bran, breathe. You need to breathe." Gregory is rubbing a hand over Bran's back.

Bran realizes then that he's shaking. His heart is ricocheting up into his throat and he's perilously close to triggering the thing in the back of his neck. Bran breathes. He lets Gregory's touch soothe him.

"That's a good dog. Such a good puppy dog, Bran." Gregory says. "Just keep breathing."

A conversation ensues around him. Bran gets down to his knees beside Gregory and focuses on his breathing. He's arguing with himself over whether or not he should go out into the world with Gregory. There are so many reasons not to go.

Derek is kneeling in front of him. They stare at each other. The silence gets to Bran eventually and before he can stop himself, he barks one angry word out. "What?"

"You're gonna be okay, Bran." Derek says. "You have everyone's phone number with you. We're a phone call away. And I'll be here a lot."

"Fine. Fuck, Derek. I'm not gonna hug it out with you or anything."

Derek grins.

After a few seconds, Bran smirks and grins too.

They hug it out.

 

* * *

 

It turns out that Mikael has let Gregory and Bran use his private plane. That way Bran doesn't have to deal with crowds. Mikael and Gregory have thought of everything in order to work around the system, to keep Bran as comfortable as possible.

Bran has no idea where they've ended up, except that they go from plane to a car with two men sitting up front. Gregory tells Bran that Mikael has insisted on security and so they have company that Mikael knows he can trust.

They drive out to the country. There are no buildings, but a few stops where people have dropped off their cars. Big packs are unloaded from the back of the car, so much stuff that Bran is glad to have the other two men along to help carry it all. The four of them start trekking into the forest.

The hike is long and uneven. Bran hadn't much cared for the hiking boots when he'd first put them on, but now he's thankful for them over the rough terrain. Bran gets his cell phone out of his bag and takes pictures of interesting vegetation. They spot a bird's nest with a mama bird and babies inside and Bran takes a picture of that.

Eventually, the brush opens up into a massive canyon with tall rock faces, a waterfall and just a spectacular view. Of all the places Bran has thought they might go, this is not one of them. He couldn't have dreamed this up even if he'd tried. Bran snaps several pictures.

"I think we'll set up camp here." Gregory says.

They all start to unpack things. They put up two tents, build a fire and prepare for dinner. By the time things are as comfortable as they can be for camping, Bran is ready to tear his clothes off.

Gregory seems to sense that Bran's fidgeting with his clothes means Bran needs them off. He isn't accustomed to wearing clothes for so long. Gregory comes over to Bran. "Take them off, Bran."

Bran glances around. It looks like they're in the middle of nowhere. But...

"Take them off." Gregory says again.

Bran doesn't exactly tear his clothes off, but he does get them off in a hurry. Gregory folds them, then he brings a spray bottle over to Bran and starts spraying it all over Bran's skin. Gregory's hands rub the spray into every inch of Bran's skin. "This will keep bugs off of you."

Gregory brings a sleeping bag over by the fire and points to it. "A pallet for you, sweet pup."

They all get settled around the fire. Gregory has brought Bran's dog bag over and gets Bran's bowls out of it. When he plucks the alligator out of the bag Bran whines.

"It's yours, Bran. Don't worry." Gregory passes the alligator over to Bran and Bran starts chewing on it. He occasionally bites down on the squeaker and that always makes Gregory smile.

Their two guards take turns scouting the area around the camp.

"Can you tell me something about your life from before the Gallery, Bran?" Gregory asks. "I feel as if I'm always talking about myself and hoping you will share in kind. You never do."

No, Bran never shares about his life from before. He doesn't want anyone to really see him beyond the pet, beyond the dog, beyond the champion who wins almost every fight. Bran chews on his alligator as he tries to decide what there is to say about the man he used to be. That man is long gone, dead to this world.

"Did you have a family?" Gregory senses Bran's hesitation and helps him by narrowing it down.

Bran shakes his head.

"I want you to speak to me, Bran."

"No wife or kids." Bran says.

"Parents?"

"Yeah."

"Siblings?"

"Yeah."

"Were you close?"

"Yeah, I guess..."

"Use your words, Bran. Explain."

Gregory is starting to catch on that Bran gets monosyllabic when he's uncomfortable. Bran wishes Gregory weren't so smart. "Before I went away we were close. Afterward, everything was different."

"Where did you go?"

"I got deployed overseas."

"Military. What branch?"

"Army."

"Why were things different when you came back home?"

"Honorable discharge after a mortar hit my unit. PTSD, I guess. Fucked up in the head."

"You were injured?"

"Yeah, almost all the scars on my left side are from shrapnel."

"The Gallery must have been very difficult for you."

"It's difficult for everyone."

"I want to talk about you."

"I don't wanna talk about me. I just wanna know what the hell we're doing here."

"This is vacation, Bran, or the first part of it. Tomorrow we're going to climb one of those rock faces over there, and rappel back down."

Bran looks back to the dark rock faces and over to Gregory. "Are you shitting me?"

"Not at all. I told you I like extreme sports. Tomorrow I'm going to give you your first extreme sport experience. Although now that I know you're a veteran, I suppose you've been through your fair share of extreme circumstances."

"I jumped out of an airplane once." Bran says. "That was some scary shit."

Gregory fills Bran's bowl with some warmed dinner and Bran has at it. When Bran is lapping at his water, Gregory speaks again.

"I have a hard time believing that a man as handsome as yourself was single."

"Never said I was single, didn't have a family."

"So there was a woman, or a man?"

"A bitch."

Gregory arches a brow. "Did she mistreat you, Bran?"

"No. I just wasn't enough for her." Bran worries the alligator through his teeth for a moment before speaking again. "When I got back she was with someone else."

"I see." Gregory says with a nod. "And then the Mistress did the same thing to you."

Bran pauses and looks up at Gregory. He'd never really thought about it like that. But yes, he was cast aside for other things, betrayed in spite of his loyalty.

"I guess."

"Have you had a PTSD episode recently?"

"I bit Doctor Javid's throat out." Bran considers that for a moment. "But I guess... I mean I got this thing in my neck that electrocutes me if I get too out of control. I have to stay calm. I guess it helped with whatever the war did to me."

"The Gallery reformed your PTSD in an entirely different way."

Bran glares at Gregory. "Yeah, I'm a fuck up. So what?"

"That's not what I'm saying, sweet pup." Gregory reaches over to pet his fingers through Bran's hair. It feels good. "I'm trying to understand what's going on in your mind. That's all."

Bran grows quiet. He doesn't want Gregory to know his mind. He doesn't want anyone to see him. He wants to be a dog. That's it.

One, two, three, four, five. Five, four, three, two, one.

Gregory leans down and kisses at Bran's brow, his hand still petting through Bran's dark locks. "Where do you go when you get quiet like this, Bran? What happens in your mind when you shut down?"

It's hard to know if Gregory actually wants an answer here. Bran continues to count, up to five and back down. Then he thinks about Derek with the others and he counts up to six and back down.

"Bran? Answer me."

Oh. Bran makes himself speak. "I count."

"You count. What do you count?"

"My people."

"And who are your people?"

"Derek, Dare, Lily, Jai, JB and Kyle."

"So you count to six?"

"Sometimes. When Derek isn't there it's just five." Bran says, tapping an index finger against his alligator as he counts aloud. "One, two, three, four, five... five, four, three, two, one. I don't know if Derek is there with them or not."

"Do you want to text them and see?"

"Yeah."

Gregory uses his phone to text Mikael and ask about Derek. A few minutes later he shows Bran the screen. Mikael says that Derek is with the others.

Bran taps his finger again and counts. "One, two, three, four, five, six... six, five, four, three, two, one." He mouths the numbers again and again, several times. Gregory gives him the space and the time to do this.

When they retire to their tent, Bran curls up on the sleeping bag with Gregory. He's allowed to sleep right next to him just as he would with his people in the harem room. Gregory even holds Bran close to him. It feels nice to just be here and not talk.

 

* * *

Morning comes too quickly. The sun is just starting to turn the sky a lighter shade of blue when Bran wakes up. It's surprising that he didn't have any nightmares that he can remember last night. He's curled in beneath a blanket against Gregory. With their nudity, the body heat has kept them both warm through the night. He studies Gregory's face, the smooth lines of it, the full beard and mustache, the way his nose slopes perfectly.

It takes Bran a moment to notice when green eyes are looking at him too. "Do you want me to please you?" He asks.

Gregory smiles softly and brushes his fingertips over the side of Bran's face. "I want you to tell me good morning."

"Good morning."

"Good morning, sweet pup."

Bran's brain isn't quite awake yet so he does what feels right. He leans in to flick his tongue over Gregory's cheek. The other man grins and leans into it, prompting Bran to continue to lick at the Master's face just as a dog would if given half the chance. Bran likes this. It's easy. It makes both of them smile.

"Okay, okay, pup. We need to get up and going."

They get up and dressed. They load up on gear and then they're off. One of their guards stays at the camp while the other comes with them. They hike through rough terrain. Muscles that Bran hasn't used in so long come to life again. His body is reinvigorated, doing something that was once familiar to him throughout his military career.

When they get to the base of a tall rock wall, Bran looks up and up and up... Holy shit. "We're going all the way up there?"

"Yes, we are." Gregory says, setting a harness down for Bran to step into. "Right here, Bran. There you go." The Master works to buckle and snap everything into place on Bran, double checking everything before he does the same for himself.

"You know I've never done anything like this, right?" Bran asks.

"I do now. Trust me, Bran. I won't let you fall."

Trust. It all comes back to that. "I thought I trusted you by coming out here with you."

"You did and I thank you for that. I need you to continue to trust me."

Gregory ties a rope between the two of them, connecting them to one another but still with enough slack that they both can climb separately. The Master starts up, offering Bran a few pointers on finding good foot and hand holds. Then he urges Bran to follow him.

As Bran puts a hand to the rock face, he notices a chip in the black nail polish on one of his nails. "Sorry, Dare. About to ruin your paint job." He mutters.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Gregory is an excellent instructor. Bran has always been able to follow instruction, even when he was in the military. Now he uses that to do exactly as Gregory tells him. He puts a hand here and a foot there and he pushes himself up and up and up...

There's a moment where Bran's foot slips and it makes his heart race. He hugs the rock face and closes his eyes. He counts quietly in his mind. It takes him a moment to realize that Gregory is counting with him, aloud, his voice calming and reassuring.

"Count, Bran." Gregory says. "One, two, three, four, five, six... six, five, four, three, two, one. One, two, three, four, five, six... six, five, four, three, two, one."

When their eyes meet again, Bran is looking at him with confusion. He doesn't get Gregory. The man just rolls with whatever crazy Bran is at whatever moment. Gregory knows what a fuck up Bran is, and still...

They make it to the top of the rock face. Gregory helps Bran's tired muscles over the top lip to a flat surface. Bran settles on his hands and knees on the rock and catches his breath. Gregory pets Bran's spine.

"Now, turn around and look, Bran." Gregory says quietly. "Just look at that."

Slowly, Bran turns around. They're on top of the canyon and the view is spectacular. Technicolor red and brown and orange rock with a scattering of trees here and there. The sky is a brilliant blue, dotted with clouds. The sun shines down overhead. An eagle caws as it soars in the distance.

When Bran looks down, he has to close his eyes. Their guard is down there, a spec of a man very, very far beneath them. Bran can't believe he climbed this far up.

"We did it." Gregory says. "Here, have some water."

They sit side by side and share a bottle of water while looking out over the canyon.

"I can't believe I did that." Bran says eventually, shaking his head. "I didn't think I could."

"It turns out that you might be good at very many things, sweet pup."

Bran remembers telling Gregory that he's only good at fighting and killing. He looks to Gregory in profile. "I don't know about that."

"I do. You're good at sex, oui? And being a dog. You're a very good dog. You make me smile. You're good at hiking. You didn't complain once as we hiked into the camping spot or from there to here. You took instruction very well all the way up. You climbed this cliff with me, Bran. You are very good at all of these things." Gregory says. "And I have a hunch that you will be good at rappelling back down as well."

When did it get so hard to take a compliment? When did Bran quit thinking he was good at things? When did he quit believing in himself? He used to think that he could conquer anything. He used to think he could save the world. "Getting up here was more about you knowing what the hell you're doing."

"I did say you took instruction well."

Gregory reaches into his pack and gets some beef jerky from it. He tears off a piece and offers it to Bran's lips. Bran takes it, his teeth scraping a bit against Gregory's fingers. That makes Gregory smile before he puts a piece of the jerky into his own mouth.

"I think Jai's coming around to you."

"Oh I do hope so. I know that you're in an awkward position between the two of us."

"Yeah. He wasn't too happy I decided to come on this trip." Bran says. "Although... was there ever really a choice?"

"Of course there was a choice. Even now there is a choice. If you want me to take you back right now I would do it." Gregory says. "I wish you would stay though, for the duration."

Again, Bran has that uncomfortable feeling in his chest. He doesn't feel like he understands Gregory. He doesn't understand why the Master wants him here. He doesn't understand why Penelope wants to be his friend. He doesn't understand people anymore. 

Bran shuts off and starts to count. Gregory lets him, but he rests an arm around Bran's shoulders, holding him close to his side and occasionally feeding him some jerky.

Eventually, Gregory gently grips Bran's chin and turns him in to him for a kiss. Bran kisses Gregory. His teeth scrape over skin but he stops just short of biting.

"You are also a very good kisser, Bran."

Bran smirks. "You're just glad I didn't bite you."

"No, sometimes I like the bite." Gregory says. "Maybe next time."

"Is that you giving me permission to bite?"

"Yes." Gregory says. "Are you ready to go back down?"

"Fuck no." Bran says with a slight laugh to his voice. The laugh almost sounds strange to him. He's laughed so rarely in the last several years.

Gregory leans over to kiss at Bran's cheek again. "You can do this, sweet pup. Then we can go back to camp and get these clothes off of you."

"You could do that up here."

The Master laughs and Bran smirks. "Patience, Bran. I want to get you down from here before the harness comes off. Do you trust me?"

Bran mulls the question over for just a moment before nodding. "Yeah." He might not understand Gregory, but he trusts him in most things at this point.

"Good."

After getting his phone out again, Bran snaps a few more pictures from up here that he'll show the others when he gets back. Gregory takes Bran's camera and takes three pictures of the two of them together. It took three pictures for him to get Bran to smile for one of them.

Gregory proceeds to ready the ropes and anchors. Bran watches the Master prepare their descent. It's obvious that Gregory has done this before, possibly multiple times. When Gregory tells him to stand, he does. He lets the other man hook ropes into metal hooks on the harness.

"Now, you're going to start very slowly until you get your bearings."

Bran follows Gregory's instruction as he starts down over the side of the cliff. He slowly starts to rappel down, listening to Gregory's voice above him, telling him how to push with his feet, control the rope, slide down.

When he looks down, Bran has to pause and close his eyes again. He breathes slowly, trying to forget that he's so high up off the ground. And then the most horrible of thoughts occur to him from out of nowhere. He could just let go of the rope, loosen the grip and fall. End it. Here and now. It could all be over.

His people wouldn't have to live with a murderer anymore. He wouldn't have to try so hard to hide himself so that people will like him and want him around. The ghosts that haunt him wouldn't have anyone to haunt anymore. Things would quit being so hard. He could just let it go.

He can vaguely hear Gregory speaking to him. But he has no idea what the man is saying. Bran has zoned out, is in a place that's dark and lonely. No one else can get in this space.

Gregory moves much more quickly once he starts. He catches up with Bran and then slows down, stopping alongside him and reaching out to tap his fingers against Bran's shoulder. "Bran, look at me."

Bran looks over to Gregory.

The Master must not like what he sees in Bran's eyes because he moves behind Bran, a leg on either side of him. He hooks himself and Bran together on either side at their harnesses and circles one arm around Bran's waist. Bran lets Gregory embrace him, leaning back into him. Bran lets go of his rope and Gregory is the only thing holding him up.

"Shhhh, sweet pup. I've got you. Deep breaths. You're shaking, Bran. Take some deep breaths."

While the Master's feet push them back away from the rock, Bran breathes. As they bounce back close to the face of the cliff, Bran breathes.

"I have you, Bran. You are not alone." Gregory says. "Just breathe."

Bran breathes. His eyes blur and he isn't even sure why he's crying. "Fuck this shit." He whispers. Bran hates crying. He was absolutely fine just a few minutes ago. Now he's in one of the worst places he knows how to be in. What happened?

"You're okay." Gregory says, rappelling the both of them down the cliff side. "Bran, you are not alone."

"I wanna be done, you fucking fuck. I'm done." Bran says. And against all reason, he starts to struggle. The pair of them swing perilously away from the rock and slam back in against it. "Let go of me. Let go!"

Gregory stills, resting the both of them against the rock face and holding tightly to rope and Bran both. "No, sweet pup, no. I'm not letting you go. Calm down. Count with me. Count with me, Bran. One... two... three... four... five... Five... four... three... two... one..."

Bran still struggles. He and Gregory bounce roughly against the rock face as Gregory fights him and holds on. Bran feels ragged rock edges scrape against his arms and cheek.

"Bran. Count with me. Now! That's an order!"

Bran pauses, leaning back against Gregory. Together, they count. Gregory counts out loud and Bran mouths the numbers. "One... two... three... four... five... Five... four... three... two... one..."

They count again. And again. Until Bran is just crying for no good reason... or maybe he has every reason to cry. 

He feels Gregory start to move again, taking the both of them down the cliff. It takes awhile, since Gregory is doing all the work for two decent sized men, but eventually Bran feels solid ground beneath his feet. His knees buckle and he falls to his hands and knees, bringing Gregory with him. Gregory unhooks them from one another and starts rubbing a hand over Bran's back.

"Let it out, Bran. Let it out. It's okay."

Deep down, Bran knows that Gregory is trying to comfort him. Bran hates crying. He hates being weak. That's what makes him retaliate by spinning around and slamming his fist into Gregory's face. "I was done! I was fucking done!"

"Bran." Gregory isn't a small man. He tries to tackle Bran to the ground but gets tangled up in rope that's still connected to his harness.

Bran uses that momentum to spin Gregory around and slam him to the ground. His mind is in fight mode. He's a rabid dog in a cage fight and he's barking, growling, snapping his teeth. He lands another heavy fist punch to Gregory's face before he feels someone grab him from behind and pull him away.

Gregory is quickly undoing his harness and stepping out of it. "Bran, breathe. Count."

But it's too late. Bran's body seizes up as a painful electrical current courses through his insides. He goes limp in the guard's arms and the man lays him down gently. Gregory is next to him then, whispering numbers to him, counting to five and back down again until Bran's brain finally catches up and he starts to mouth the numbers with him.

"That's right Bran, keep counting. Deep breaths." Gregory's lip is bleeding. A bruise is starting to form to the left of his left eye. His hair has fallen out of his bun, hanging wild around his face and tickling Bran's brow.

They count together. They count until Bran has stopped shaking and is breathing slow and deep. Bran stares blankly up at the sun, silently begging it to burn him alive. Now he's hurt another person who was halfway decent to him. Fuck.

Gregory has unbuckled the harness from Bran and slides it down off of his legs. Bran's fingers fidget with his shirt, wanting it off. His clothes feel too tight.

"We'll get them off when we get back to camp, Bran." Gregory starts to pack up. It takes very little time for how quickly he shoves things in backpacks and hooks things together. Then he instructs the guard to get Bran's backpack. Together, the guard and Gregory help to get Bran to his feet. They each have an arm around him and help him move.

It's slow going. But eventually they get back to camp. The other guard helps to take some of the gear and their backpacks away. Gregory instantly starts removing Bran's clothes. Bran pulls at his clothes, wanting them off but not really helping in getting them there.

When he's finally naked, he curls up into a ball on the sleeping bag in the tent. Gregory gets the stuffed alligator from Bran's dog bag and Bran immediately starts to worry the material between his teeth. Bran is so grateful that the Master doesn't try to talk to him right away. Gregory lets Bran be and goes outside to talk to the guards.

Bran zones out for some time, long enough for it to get dark outside. He counts in his mind again and again. His eyes swell with his stupid crying. Just when he thinks he's done, he starts again. Bran counts. Counting makes things easier.

When Gregory returns, he brings a lantern with him along with some food and water. Bran doesn't feel like eating. He doesn't feel like being social. He feels drained in every way. He keeps his eyes closed and continues to count, continues to chew on his alligator.

"My sweet Bran." Gregory's hand pets at Bran's skin, the touch soft and soothing, far more kind than Bran thinks he deserves.

For awhile they just lay there like that, Bran with his eyes closed and biting the alligator between his teeth and Gregory petting gently over his skin. It can't last, of course. The Master will want him to speak, Bran knows this. It's why Bran very near winces in pain when Gregory finally gets to that point.

"I need to know what happened on the mountain, Bran. I need you to find words and use them." Gregory's hand rests on Bran's side at his hip and he taps his fingers against Bran's skin. "Look at me, sweet pup. Open your eyes and look at me."

It takes Bran a moment, but eventually he opens his eyes, still worrying the alligator between his teeth. When Gregory pinches one end of the alligator between his fingers, Bran whines.

"You can still hold it, Bran. I'm not taking it from you. But I want it out of your mouth so you can speak with me."

Bran lets Gregory slowly pull the stuffed toy away from his mouth.

"Now... I need to know what happened while we were rappelling. You were fine when I sent you down. Then something..." Gregory pauses and shakes his head. "What happened?"

"I don't know." Bran whispers.

"You do know. You gave up, Bran. You wanted to die. You wanted me to let you die. I want to know why."

Maybe there isn't a right answer. Maybe Bran has no idea why he's so tired, why he hates himself, why he has moments where he just wants to be done. He's quiet for a long time as he thinks about it. There are tears in his eyes again. He hates that he's crying. Gregory's hand pets over his skin again. The Master is patient as always.

Finally, Bran thinks back to a question Gregory had asked him back at Passion, upstairs in Gregory's bedroom.

_How many people have you killed, Bran?_

"I don't know." Bran says.

"You don't know what?"

"I don't know how many people I've killed." Gregory nods and waits Bran out, giving Bran space before he speaks again. "Even after the war I had a general idea of how many. But now... I don't know, I lost count somewhere. When the... the reason I was killing got confusing, I guess."

"When you were killing for the Mistress."

Bran nods. "Maybe before that, I don't know. I just wanted to be a hero, to keep people safe."

"The Gallery took that part of you and twisted it around to control you."

"I guess. Or maybe I was always twisted." Bran's voice sounds ridiculous right now to him. It's wracked with emotion and sobs. He hates it so much. "I tried to save them. I said no, thinking they'd kill me but they didn't. They killed the others."

"Others?"

"The other holes in the Catacombs. If I didn't... do what they said, they killed other holes." Bran says. "I had to do it. I had to. And then I didn't know what I was saving them for. It was hell. I was saving them for hell. So I quit doing that."

"Bran..."

"I'm a murderer. I raped people and I murdered them. I told myself I was saving them but I don't know anymore. I don't know what was right or wrong. They should've just killed me. I should have a bullet in my brain."

Bran reaches his hand out to push Gregory's hand away. Then he pushes Gregory himself away. "So see? I'm not a good dog. I'm not. Fucking kill me, okay? Kill me."

Despite Bran pushing him away, Gregory works his way in to wrap himself around Bran. The Master holds on and Bran only half-heartedly tries to break free. He's crying too hard. His body is trembling with his cries. His mind isn't counting. He just keeps thinking two words again and again on repeat until that's all there is.

_Bad dog. Bad dog. Bad dog. Bad dog._


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

That night Bran falls asleep against Gregory. He's so drained that he barely moves. They sleep facing each other with the stuffed alligator toy smashed between their bodies. Gregory holds Bran the whole night. Bran is even too worn out to dream and he's thankful for that.

When he wakes, it's well into morning. Gregory is still there, holding him. Bran doesn't move. He doesn't want to mess up this moment.

Gregory will probably take Bran back to Passion today, now that he knows what a fucked up pet Bran is, now that he knows that Bran is a bad dog. The Master will probably leave, chalking Bran up to the lost cause that he now knows that he is.

Bran wants this moment, before everything ends, before the world comes crashing down on him again.

It's surprising to realize how far Gregory has immersed himself into all of Bran's insides, all the bits and pieces that make up the character of a man or a woman. It makes Bran's heart hurt to know how badly he fucked this up. His brain is cycling through all the ways he could be a good dog and try to make Gregory stay with him.

Nothing lasts anymore.

"I know that you are awake, sweet pup." Gregory eventually says.

Sweet pup? Hasn't Bran proven yesterday and last night that he isn't that? Bran tilts his head back to flick his tongue over Gregory's chin.

"Good morning, Bran."

Bran feels Gregory's lips against his brow, a light caress, a soft kiss. Pain. There should be pain. Bran deserves to be hurt. Bran hears himself whining.

"It's okay. I want you to listen to me carefully. Listen to every word I say." Gregory says. "You were put in an impossible position. The Gallery excelled at understanding the psychology of a person, finding all of the things that make a person tick and then using those wonderful and horrible parts of that person against them. This was done to you, and I'm sorry for that.

"You joined the military because you wanted to be a hero. You wanted to keep the people of your country safe. You have always been that person, Bran. The Mistress used that against you. She made you confused about who you were keeping safe and why. None of that is your fault."

Gregory continues to hold Bran. Bran doesn't move, he just listens to every word, as he was told to do.

"But I want you to realize this about yourself. In spite of the way those good parts of you were twisted around and used in a horrific way, you are still that hero, trying to keep people safe. Your people. The harem. You have been protecting them every day since the downfall of the Gallery, even to your own detriment. You do realize that, don't you? Things were confusing in the Gallery. But you're still that man you were going in. You're a good person, Bran. You're sweet. You're a hero. If you weren't a good person, the things you were forced into wouldn't be eating away at you from the inside out."

Finally, Gregory pulls back and tilts Bran's head up. Bran sees that Gregory has a busted lip and a bruised eye from yesterday. His arms and hands are scratched up where they'd slammed against rock face in the struggle to get Bran down to the ground. Bran feels horrible about that.

"You are a good dog, Bran. A very good dog. You have to start taking care of yourself. Your friends are safe now. It's time to let them protect themselves. It's time to look after yourself and let yourself have what you need and want."

The Master kisses him then. Bran kisses back, his tongue licking at the wound on Gregory's lip rather than biting it.

"I want you to look at something." Gregory shifts just far enough away so that he can lay on his stomach next to Bran. He folds his arms beneath his head and looks up to Bran. "Look at the tattoo on my back."

Bran leans up on one elbow to look at the tattoo he's only glanced at from across the room before. It's a large tree with sprawling branches that covers almost the entirety of Gregory's back. From the branches, daggers hang, pointed down at the ground. Upon closer inspection, the daggers are blood tipped, blood drips from all of them except one.

"I got this done when I killed my first innocent person on the job. I thought perhaps it would help me honor those who were lost in the name of saving the many. I added another dagger every time I killed someone who didn't necessarily deserve to die. I could swear that after some time the tattoo started weighing me down. I had to accept that in order to save the many, in order for me to get to where I could save the many, I had to kill the few. So I added one last dagger to represent those that would still die, and I quit counting."

He can't help himself. Bran reaches out to touch the dagger that has no blood on it, the dagger that represents deaths yet to come. He traces the branches. His fingers linger on each bloody dagger. He counts twenty-seven of them. They're both murderers, for different reasons, in different circumstances, but they both have that cross to bear, innocent lives on their hands.

Gregory is silent and allows him time to think through all of this. Eventually though, Gregory speaks again. "I don't want your death to be represented here. I want you to live, Bran. I want you to be my sweet pup when you're ready. I want to be your Master when you're ready."

"For how long?" The question is out before Bran can realize he's asked it.

The Master turns back onto his side and reaches out to take one of Bran's hands in his. "Forever, as far as I'm concerned. Or as long as you want."

It's almost too much. These are all the words Bran has wanted to hear and now that he hears them, he has no idea how to take them. Gregory wants him to be his dog. Gregory wants to be his Master. Is there such a thing as forever?

"Even after I almost got us killed and fucked your face up?"

"Bruises heal, Bran. We are still alive. I still want you." Gregory says. "I had a dog, one I bought from the Mistress when I first realized my inclination toward them. He was so broken that he'd forgotten how to be human. He had no words. The Mistress convinced me to put him into the fights. I did so. He lost. He didn't have the same fight as you had and I never should have allowed it. But it got me even closer to the Mistress in the end."

"Is he one of the daggers on your back?" Bran asks.

"The last one I painted red."

"Did I kill him?" This question is whispered. Bran almost doesn't want to know the answer. He'd killed many dogs in the fights.

Gregory cups Bran's cheek and shakes his head. "No, sweet Bran. No. It was before your time in the dog fights. You had no hand in his death. And I never thought I would have another, especially not outside of the Gallery. Now there is you. I want you, if you will have me."

For awhile Bran just stares at Gregory. Whatever this is, he's sure he doesn't deserve it. He's sure he'll fuck it up. He worries the alligator in one of his hands. And finally, he shakes his head. "I don't get you, man."

"What do you not get, Bran? I can try to elaborate on anything you need explained."

"You want a dog."

"Oui. And a partner."

"You had a dog who was a dog twenty-four/seven. Perfect all the time."

"Yes, that is true."

"And you know what a fuck up I am. Sometimes I have a mouth on me. And I just... fuck things up."

"According to you. Otherwise, I am quite fond of the mouth you have on you." Gregory says this with a mischievous smile.

Bran shakes his head. "I can't be the dog you want."

"Why not?"

"Because no one wants me. I'm... me."

"Again, Bran. You are giving yourself too much power. You cannot possibly control what I want. And I have told you what I want."

When Bran says nothing, Gregory continues. "You think that because you were cast aside by others, and made to feel as if you were not enough, that I should do the same."

"Well yeah. Seems pretty fucking par for the course far as I can tell."

"Then give me the opportunity to prove otherwise. Allow me the chance to take you off of that course."

"I don't make good choices."

"And yet this is your choice to make. I will not command that you let me into your life. I am so weary of not being chosen, Bran, of making all of the decisions, of being dictator and captor rather than partner, lover and Master. I will make so many decisions for you, Bran. But this one absolutely has to be yours."

Bran rolls onto his back and brings the alligator up to his mouth to worry the material through his teeth. As always, Gregory is patient with Bran. The Master waits. Bran thinks. He thinks for far longer than he probably needs to. He thinks about all the ways that this could go wrong.

"I don't think I could handle it if I lost everything again." If that happened, there would be no Bran left to save.

"If I have my way, you won't ever lose anything again, Bran."

"What if I'm a bad dog?"

"Every dog has his moments. But you already have the foundation. I just want to tweak a few things, make the experience more enjoyable for both of us." Gregory leans down to kiss lightly at Bran's lips. "I can teach you to be a dog without all the bloodshed and pain the Mistress demanded of you. Bran, you can be a good dog, perfectly imperfect just as a real dog would be."

"But you want me to talk?"

"Oui. Anytime you or I want to speak. And you may be a dog when you want to be a dog." Gregory says.

There's a lot of power and control being offered to Bran. A part of him, deep down, craves it. It's also kind of terrifying.

Gregory continues. "Sometimes I might even dress you up and take you out on a date."

Bran smirks. "I haven't been on a date since..." Since before the war. "...in fucking forever."

"Will you be mine, Bran?" Gregory asks. "Let me take you out on many, many dates."

It's strange, but Bran feels like he's on top of that cliff they had climbed yesterday. He feels like he's about to jump over the edge and free fall in the hopes that Gregory will be at the bottom and catch him.

Trust. Everything with Master Gregory seems to boil down to trust. Bran has always had trust issues. They've compounded over the years, especially after the war and since the Gallery.

Bran takes a deep breath and counts. One, two, three, four, five... five, four, three, two, one. Can he make Gregory not just _a_ Master, but _his_ Master? He toes the line of taking that leap, then steps back away from the edge. "I don't have an answer."

Gregory doesn't betray any emotion here. He simply nods. "Then you can think about it and let me know when you're ready. In the meantime, I'll still take you on that date."

"Are you trying to romance me?" Bran teases.

"I'm French. What do you expect, hrm?" Gregory kisses him again and this time Bran kisses him back. When he draws blood he doesn't apologize and Gregory doesn't ask him to.

 

* * *

 

They pack up and trek back out to the cars after that. Bran's muscles hurt from the climb yesterday. They also hurt from his fall, emotionally and physically. Everything inside of him feels raw like it could tear apart so easily, like it stings even at the slightest touch.

Bran is kind of disappointed with himself, for not taking that leap of faith with Gregory. He wants to. For some reason he isn't ready yet. His own mind gets in the way of a lot of things since the war.

The car takes them back into a city where they pull into the drive of a massive hotel. There are people everywhere outside on the sidewalks and that makes Bran nervous. Gregory instructs one of the guards to go check them into their rooms.

Eventually, Bran is walking through a lobby with his head down and Gregory's arm around him. He feels like everyone is staring at him. But of course he wouldn't actually know if that were true because he doesn't look up until they're cloistered away in an elevator.

Gregory kisses Bran's brow as Bran watches the numbers of the floors rise on a display. A glance to the number pad inside the elevator makes it look like they're going to the very top floor. They arrive on the top floor where the elevator opens up straight into their penthouse suite.

It's a massive space, luxurious with a killer view out of a wall of windows in the main room. Bran goes straight to those windows to look outside. He'll have to get a picture of this for the others at some point. There's a balcony but Bran is a little nervous about stepping outside to the railing and looking down.

When he looks back into the room, Gregory is unpacking their bags, setting out Bran's dog stuff and toys. He brings Gregory his phone.

"You should get a picture for your friends." Gregory opens the glass balcony doors and steps outside. Bran tries to build up all the bravado he can muster and follows the other out onto the balcony. It seems that Gregory is consistently leading Bran outside of his comfort zone, the tiny circle where Bran thinks everything is safest. It's exhilarating, to be honest. Bran gets his picture and then Gregory leads him back inside.

There's a bathroom that could probably be a bedroom for the size of it. The shower could fit upwards of ten people and the bathtub is big and square with jets in it. The bedroom is massive too. There's a wall of windows here too, another balcony.

"Take your clothes off, Bran."

Bran is more than happy to remove his clothes. When they come off he always feels an instant relief, like scratching an itch that's been nagging you for a long while.

That afternoon, while Gregory gets settled, Bran gets to be a dog. He gets to turn his mind off of most things except to chew his alligator while Gregory is working on his laptop, chase the ball when Gregory tosses it and let Gregory pet him. After the prior day and this morning, it feels good to let himself settle into this role that comes so naturally to him now.

 

* * *

 

Bran is dressed again. They're up on the roof of this tall hotel building. Gregory has set up a candlelit dinner up here. There's a small round table with two pillar candles. Bran has a seat at the table and smooths one hand over the table cloth.

"Wow. You know it's fancy when there's a table cloth involved."

Gregory sits across from Bran and smiles as he pours them both a glass of wine. "Some dates are supposed to be fancy, don't you think? Like the first planned date."

This is a date. It's unlike any date Bran has ever been on before, but it's a Gregory type date and he thinks he likes it. They're up here by themselves save for one maître d' who occasionally comes outside to place appetizer, salad, entree and dessert in front of them. He also replaces their wine when they've made it through one bottle.

The view up here is spectacular. The sprawling city below with the mountains in the distance. It's not too chilly, the temperature just right in thanks to the time of year, Bran thinks.

Then there's the conversation. Gregory coaxes things out of Bran that Bran hasn't thought of or considered in a long time. They talk about sports and religion. They talk about their families. They talk about ridiculous things they did when they were children and marvel at how they survived. Bran talks about his military career and Gregory speaks about his work with the French government.

Bran tells Gregory how it was after his discharge from the army, how he couldn't seem to get it together after that, how he lived homeless on the streets because no one could seem to reach him and help him. He tells Gregory about his abduction and then veers into what happened to him in the Gallery, in detail.

Once it started, the floodgates were opened and Bran talks about everything that he's never been able to talk about before; the things he saw while overseas, how distant he became from his family when he got back, how alone he felt, then the Gallery, the Catacombs, his dog training. He tells Gregory how the Mistress had killed some of the pets before they had escaped to Mikael.

Bran confesses everything, all of his triumphs and pitfalls, the highs and lows, all of his mistakes from the past and present. Gregory listens patiently to everything, offers gentle prodding when Bran seems to have trouble getting through some things.

Never once does Bran feel judged. In fact, he almost feels adored in spite of all the ugliness he's sharing. Gregory must really, really like him, he decides. Maybe Bran really likes Gregory too.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

Gregory takes Bran out twice into the city. Both times Gregory seems to have thought of everything, spared no expense to make sure that Bran doesn't have to be around large crowds. The first time they go out, they go to a bungee jumping site where Bran takes a leap and is flung around on an elastic rope. It's a lot of fun.

The second time they take a helicopter up to the top of one of the cliffs and hang glide their way back down. That one is more difficult, but Bran makes it down okay. He oscillates back and forth between terrified of the height and awed by it. He finds that he likes the feeling of flying, of being above all the bullshit down on the ground.

Otherwise, they stay in their hotel room and Bran gets to be a dog for the most part. Bran is enjoying this trip far more than he'd ever thought he would.

It's their last night in the city and Gregory has arranged another private dinner date on the roof. The same maître d' as last time attends them, only joining them for brief moments to refill glasses or take away plates.

When Gregory asks Bran how he likes the wine and Bran just shrugs and says it tastes like sour grapes and that he's more of a beer guy, Gregory makes sure that the maître d' brings Bran beer on the next rotation.

This date is even better than the last because they're just having fun. Bran isn't spilling his guts, confessing all his sins because once he started he couldn't stop. They joke and laugh. Bran is surprised at himself when he laughs. Laughing feels strange.

"Sometimes I get jealous, you know? Of Derek. I get it, yeah. He wasn't in there for as long as we were. But he's still got his shit together. Like why can't I do that?" Bran shakes his head and sips at his beer. "Then him and Mikael are all... I don't know, perfect."

"No one's perfect, Bran, no matter how they might seem so from the outside looking in." Gregory says. "Do you like working at Passion?"

"Yeah. I know it's weird to like it. But it gives me purpose. And the environment is... I mean..." He lifts a hand and rubs at the back of his neck as he tries to figure out how best to put what he's trying to say. "No one questions the fact that we feel better being naked and wearing collars. I know it's weird."

"It's not weird. It's who you are right now."

"So I guess I like Passion cause we all get to be who we are without people looking at us sideways, if that makes sense." Bran says. "And Mikael's an all right guy. He paid me for the nights I was kneeling next to you too as if I was working the floor."

"Mikael is, deep down, a good man. He, too, was dealt a hand and played it the only way he could while doing right by people he considered family."

"You didn't turn him in as a Gallery connection. Why?"

"Because he's very charismatic and I thought him a friend." Gregory swirls his wine in the bowl of his glass. "And because by the time I spoke to him he had already saved all of you. To turn him in would also hand all of you over to the Russian government because at the time, you were in Russia at his brother's home. To turn him in now would have the same results, only with the U.S. government."

"He doesn't like one the guards who became friends with Derek either, some undercover FBI guy. He has a thing against people who he thinks lied to him. It's not just you."

"Are you saying that eventually Mikael will forgive me for my perceived slight?"

Bran shrugs. "I think if you're gonna be around he's gonna have to."

Gregory smiles then. "Are you afraid of heights, Bran?"

"Nah. Maybe I'm afraid of jumping."

"You jumped with both the bungee and the hang gliding this week."

"After a helluva lot of instruction and peer pressure." Bran jokes.

They both laugh. Gregory stands and holds a hand out. Bran takes that hand and stands too, walking with Gregory over to the edge of the roof. There's a metal railing surrounding the top. Bran grabs a hold of it with his other hand.

"Are you nervous?" Gregory asks.

"A little."

Gregory moves behind Bran, putting Bran between him and the railing. One of Gregory's arms circles around Bran's waist and he whispers into his ear from behind. "I won't ever let you fall, not unless that fall is controlled or has a very soft ending. You just have to trust me, sweet pup."

It's always about trust with Gregory. Bran is getting better at it. He trusts Gregory in a lot of things and in a lot of ways, just not in the way that Gregory wants him to.

Bran feels Gregory's palm smooth over his abdomen beneath his shirt. His skin prickles with goose bumps. Then the button to his jeans is snapped open and Gregory's hand slips down to grab his cock, to fondle and stroke.

"Look down at the ground, Bran."

On top of this sky scraper hotel, Bran looks down to the street below. Tiny dots of cars and people. Bran is on top of the world right now. His jeans are pushed down and Gregory is pumping the plug in and out of Bran's ass. Bran loses his breath.

"Do you want me, Bran?"

"Fuck yes." It seems the only appropriate answer. It's also the truth. He wants Gregory to fuck him so badly right now he can barely stand it.

The plug is pulled out and Bran grips the railing tight with both hands as Gregory pushes roughly inside of him. It's perfect. The stretch to accommodate, that feeling of being full, the friction, whatever the hell the Gallery did to him to make this act affect his entire self.

Out here in the open, in the real world, even secluded on the roof as they are, amps everything up to another level. Bran finds himself pushing back against Gregory, wanting him balls deep inside of him. Gregory seems to understand and gives Bran exactly what he wants.

They fuck as they always do, with wild abandon, like animals rutting against one another. Bran likes being fucked like this. It seems that Gregory likes it too.

And afterward, Gregory wraps his arms around Bran and they stand there together looking out over the city. Bran feels, in that moment, as if he _did_ jump, as if he took that leap of faith, and Gregory caught him.

Trust. It always boils down to trust.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, hey! Look who's here!"

Dare's greeting upon Bran's return is boisterous and accompanied by a tight hug. Lily, the twins and Jai hug him too. Bran has to admit that it's good to be back with his people.

They sit together for a few hours while Bran tells them everything he and Gregory had done and shows them pictures to go with the stories he has.

He leaves out his crash to rock bottom, just because he doesn't want any of them to see him in that light. His crash isn't the point of that story anyway. The point is that Gregory was there when it happened and that Gregory lifted him back up.

Everyone but Jai seems impressed by his excursion into the world outside of Passion. Eventually, Jai goes back over to his corner of the room while Bran continues to tell his story. Bran's going to have to talk to him, he realizes.

"You look good." J.B. says. "I think going out there was good for you."

"Maybe Master Gregory is good for you too." Lily adds. "You look happy, Bran."

Bran shrugs and smirks. "I dunno. It was nice. He's nice. But I'm also glad to be back with you guys."

"Aw, we missed you too, gorgeous." Dare says with a wink. "Also, looks like you need a fresh nail job. I can take care of that." And he does.

Later, with a new coat of black nail polish on his nails a la Dare, Bran goes to sit down next to Jai. He has his alligator with him, holds it between his hands against the floor and chews idly on it. For a long time they say nothing. Bran always sits next to Jai like this. He wants Jai to know nothing has changed.

Eventually, Jai's hand rests on Bran's back and he starts to pet him. Bran thinks this means that things will be okay.

"You were missed." Jai says.

"So were you."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Did he make promises that he cannot keep?"

"No."

Jai falls silent then, still petting Bran. It's several minutes later when Jai speaks again. What he says sends chills down Bran's spine in spite of the warmth of Jai's hand resting there. "You are still your Mistress's rabid dog."

 

* * *

 

Bran falls into his normal routine again. He showers with the other pets every morning. Gregory comes to pick him up and he spends all day with him. They go to Passion every night. Bran works half of the night and then kneels with Gregory the other half. Then he sleeps in the harem room.

Sometimes he goes out with Derek to help him work on the houses Derek restores. Sometimes Gregory takes Bran to one of the side rooms so that they can fuck before Bran returns to the harem room. Sometimes Bran sucks Gregory's cock right there at the table Gregory usually sits at.

Gregory is now officially a staple in Bran's world. Bran likes that.

He and Gregory talk about everything. It's taken some time to get here, but they share even the most inconsequential details of their day or night when they're apart. Gregory tells Bran about some place he went to in the city. Bran tells Gregory about some of Derek's friends meeting them at the house while they worked. Gregory tells Bran when Mikael sits with him in the main room and they have a normal conversation like what they used to have. Bran tells Gregory about Jai still being uncomfortable about Bran being with him.

It's several weeks later that Gregory asks Bran to sleep in his room that night as Passion is closing. Bran looks over to the others and counts their heads. He's surprised to find that he wants to sleep in Gregory's room.

The decision is made and Bran tells Dare he's going to Gregory's room for the night before they retire there. Bran gets to sleep the whole night in Gregory's bed with him. He likes that too.

This becomes another part of Bran's routine. He starts sleeping in Gregory's bed more and more often.

 

* * *

 

"Do you think the Mistress can ever get out?"

Bran is at Derek's current work in progress. He's lying on his back, hooking up new piping under the sink. Derek is sitting on the floor next to him, handing him tools.

"I'm not gonna say it could never happen," Derek says. "But she's pretty much got a life sentence and is heavily guarded in solitary confinement so she can't control anything from the inside. All the big bosses of the Gallery have the same security. Why?"

"Just... curious." Jai's words still echo in his mind.

_You are still your Mistress's rabid dog._

When Derek taps his knuckles against Bran's thigh to get his attention, Bran continues. "I think Jai is still holding out hope that she'll come for him. Sometimes I think he's moving on and sometimes I think he's still got her in his head, fucking with his mind."

Derek nods. "Yeah, he's had a rough go of it, that's for sure. As of right now, she can't get to him. And if Mikael has anything to say about it, she'll never get to any of you."

"I don't think Gregory would let it happen either."

"You and Gregory are doing good, huh?" Derek asks this with a smile.

Bran feels the corners of his own lips twitch, wanting to smile but not quite getting there. "Yeah, I guess. I... like him a lot. He's nice to me."

"And he's good for you. Your head seems to be in a better place. I'm guessing he has something to do with that."

"He lets me be a dog when I wanna be a dog. And he lets me be a person when I wanna be a person. He... asked me to be his, while we were on our trip."

"Yeah? What'd you say?"

"I said I wasn't sure about it. I said no." Bran hands Derek the wrench and asks for a cloth. "My head space is better now, but I still have a way to go. And when he asked, I was worse than I am now."

"If he asked again would you say yes?"

"I dunno."

They work for a bit more before Derek speaks again. "There's something I have to tell you."

Bran sighs. "That never means anything good when you start shit like that."

"I don't know if this is good or bad. But I think you should know about it."

He pauses everything and looks at Derek. "So lay it on me."

"Your parents finally declared you missing last month. A search was started. It became news, I guess because you were a hometown hero and a veteran. They're looking for you and if we aren't careful it could go from local news to national."

"Fuck." His parents. His perfect, wonderful, salt of the earth, small town parents. What would they think of him now?

"I'm guessing you don't wanna see them?"

Bran doesn't answer. He has no answer to that. He loves his parents. He also can't handle their disappointment. They'd been so disappointed in him after the war when he couldn't seem to get himself together.

"Hey. It's okay. You just need to think about it. That's all." Derek says. "Maybe you can skype with them. Just let them know you're good and safe."

"Maybe."

Thankfully, Derek drops it and they get back to work.

When they get back to Passion, Gregory, Mikael and Doctor Javid are sitting together in the main room. Mikael's icy blue eyes seem to soften when he sees Derek. Gregory smiles at Bran.

Bran hesitates a moment when he sees Javid. Then he forces himself to move forward with Derek.

"Did you have a productive day, darling?" Mikael asks Derek, scooting over to let him into the booth.

"We did. Got a lot done. Bran's better at the plumbing than me so he did most of the work."

"You bought all the shit we need so it's an even amount of work." Bran kneels on the floor next to Gregory.

"We were actually just talking about you, sweet pup." Gregory's hand is in Bran's hair, combing through the shaggy locks.

"Man, I've had enough weird news today. Can it wait?"

"Derek told you about your parents?" Mikael asks.

"Yeah."

"They're just worried about you, Bran. It might be a good idea to reassure them of your well being."

Bran just shrugs and looks down to the floor. He closes his eyes and lets himself just feel Gregory's fingers in his hair.

"We're thinking that it's time for you to let us get the device out of your neck. Doctor Javid can do the operation here in his lab."

Bran hears Mikael, but he doesn't quite register what he's said for a few seconds. "Doctor Javid doesn't wanna kill me after what I did to him?"

"No, Bran. I do not want to kill you. I want to help you."

Gregory's hand shifts to cup the back of Bran's neck. "I think you should let him take it out, Bran. It's time to let it go and give yourself that freedom."

"The choice is yours though, Bran." Javid says.

Bran hates having to make big decisions. He looks up to Derek, who gives him a slight nod. Then he looks over to Gregory who offers him a reassuring smile.

"Well fuck. Okay, let's do it." The chip is coming out. They all seem to trust him enough to take it out. Now Bran has to trust himself enough to let it happen too.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

The surgery goes as smoothly as it can. Bran's recovery time is several days in Doctor Javid's care. He's missed almost a week of life by the time he gets to leave the lab. Gregory has sat beside him almost the entire time. His people have come in to check on him a few times. Even Mikael stops by.

Bran and Javid have a lot of time to talk. It takes a few days but Bran finally allows himself to think that they're okay. Maybe they're even friends in spite of Bran's past actions.

By the time he's up and walking around enough to get out of the Doctor's space, Bran goes straight to Gregory's room with him. He's still on pain medication and he'll still have to go in for check-ups every other day or so, but the chip is out.

The pain meds make him tired. Gregory lets Bran lounge on a pallet in his room. When Gregory is on the bed, Bran is invited to lounge up there too.

One night at Passion, while Bran is kneeling beside Gregory, Derek comes over to the table and asks Gregory's permission to speak with Bran.

With Gregory's permission, Derek kneels in front of Bran. "I have an idea about how to smooth things over with your parents before things get out of hand."

Bran knows how easily everything could come crashing down. The fall of the Gallery was international news. If his family makes enough ruckus, the media would find out that what's left of the harem is here. The government could find out they're here. This safe haven could be so easily destroyed.

"Okay, lay it on me."

"I wanna go talk to them."

Of all the things Bran had thought to hear, that was not it. "What? Why?"

"I wanna tell them the truth. I want them to understand what happened to you, where you're at and what you need. Then maybe it'll be easier to skype with them or even to eventually go visit them."

His stomach feels like an empty pit at the idea of his parents knowing what happened to him. What will they think of him?

When Bran doesn't say anything, Derek continues. "I'm FBI, Bran. That's gotta hold some weight with them, right? They'll have to listen and at least agree to call off the search."

Derek isn't wrong. It's Bran who's afraid of everything concerning his past life. He fits in here. He hasn't really messed anything up in several weeks now. He's afraid to rock the boat too much. He's afraid to jump, not of the jumping itself, but of what will be on the other side of that jump.

He has to do this though. He has to do it so that Lily, Dare, Jai and the twins have a safe space here. Gregory is right, Bran realizes. Bran is still trying to be the hero no matter how indirectly. No matter what the Gallery did to him, no matter what they made him do, he's still that man.

"Okay. Go talk to them." He finally says with a nod.

Derek leans in and embraces Bran. "I promise to make them understand. I've told families about horrible things that have happened to their loved ones before, Bran. I can make them understand. Okay? I'll smooth it all over so that they don't have to know specifics, just the general idea. I promise to do this right for you."

When Derek leaves, Bran looks up to Gregory. The Master is looking on in approval. His hand cups the back of Bran's neck over the gauze covering the healing scar there. For some reason it makes Bran feel good that Gregory is proud of him.

 

* * *

 

It's early in the morning and Bran is curled up against Gregory's side. He's somewhere between awake and asleep. Last night he and Gregory had fucked pretty damn hard. Bran's body still feels it. It feels good.

The medication he's on still keeps his mind foggy so that it takes him longer to come out of sleep than it usually would. Aside from that, he really likes just laying here with Gregory so every morning he tries not to move for as long as he can.

Eventually Bran feels the mattress shift and he knows Gregory is waking up. Bran tries to wake up too. He stretches his legs long and rolls his shoulders back.

Then he hears something that doesn't sound right. There's a choking sound, and then a cough, and Bran's eyes snap open in a haze.

Jai is on top of Gregory, straddling him. There's a bloody knife in Jai's hand. Gregory is gripping his throat with bloody hands.

"Jai. What are you doing?" Bran asks, pushing to sit up. "What have you done?"

"He betrayed our Mistress, Bran. If you cannot do what is expected of you, then I will... and I have."

No. No no no no...

One, two, three, four, five... Five, four, three, two, one...

Bran growls and pushes up to leap at Bran and tackle him off of the bed and onto the floor. He bites hard at Jai's neck, tasting blood. He only lets go when he feels the sharp edge of the blade shoved into his gut.

Getting up onto his knees, Bran looks down to see the blade sticking out of him. He looks to Jai, lying beneath him with a bloody neck. Jai is crying.

"I loved you, Bran."

Oh. Loved. The past tense of love. Jai loved him. Bran loves Jai.

Bran shakes his head, his vision growing blurry with his own tears. "Then why are you breaking my fucking heart, Jai? I've been loyal to you. I love you. I love Gregory too and you..."

Gregory.

Bran looks back to Gregory pushing up from the bed. His Master falls to the floor, still gripping his neck. Blood is spilling out of the wound and his mouth at an alarming rate.

Bran's Master. Gregory is his and Jai attacked him.

No. No no no no....

One, two, three, four, five... Five, four, three, two, one...

Bran runs to the door and out into the hallway. "Help! He needs help. Fucking get in here and help him!"

The guards from the hallway rush in and one of them speaks into a communication device, calling on Doctor Javid. One of them takes Jai away and Bran follows them out into the hallway, watching. Jai is his person. Jai is hurting. That's why he did this. Jai is hurting. Jai is not okay.

Doctor Javid sees Bran first and then rushes into the room. He tells the guards to transport Gregory to his labs and then he stops by Bran.

"Bran, you need to come to the lab as well."

Bran just whines as the guards take an unconscious Gregory by him.

Javid grips either side of Bran's face to get his attention. "Bran! Look at me. Come with me to the labs. You have a knife in you. I'd rather take it out in the labs."

Only just now does Bran remember he'd been stabbed. Jai had stabbed him. He looks down to see the hilt of the blade protruding from his abdomen. The physical pain is only just starting to register.

One, two, three, four, five... Five, four, three, two, one...

 

* * *

 

While Doctor Javid focuses on Gregory, one of his nurses takes the blade out of Bran's abdomen and stitches him up. His usual dosage of pain medication is administered and it makes Bran groggy once again.

He keeps looking over to where Gregory is lying on a slab, Javid and another nurse hunched over him. He silently asks whoever might be listening to keep him alive.

Jai is brought into the lab and his neck, where Bran has bitten him, is tended to. With no expression on his face whatsoever, Jai quietly watches Gregory.

It doesn't matter that his mind is foggy and that he's tired even though he only just woke up not long ago. Bran feels the need to sit up and glare, to stand sentinel over Gregory, and he does so. He won't let Jai near Gregory.

 

* * *

 

It's hours later when Javid tells him that Gregory will be okay. Jai has been tended to and escorted out of the lab. Bran sits next to Gregory's bed for a long time. When he gets tired, he gets up onto the slim bed and curls into Gregory's side as close as he can get.

This time, when he sleeps, it's only a doze. He's in and out of sleep, somehow subconsciously refusing to truly sleep on his watch. There are guards standing outside the lab, of course. But guards in the hallway had let Jai into Gregory's room. Jai was one of the harem. He had been trusted. Bran is standing watch now.

It's some time later that he feels fingers in his hair.

Bran lifts his head and sees Gregory looking down at him. Bran whines.

"Are..." Gregory's voice is hoarse. He clears his throat and whispers softly this time. "Are you okay, sweet pup?"

Is _he_ okay? Gregory is the one who got his throat slit and he's asking if Bran is okay.

"I'm fine, Master."

The title comes easily to Bran. And even as weak as Gregory is in the moment, the use of it surprises him enough for him to show it.

"Does that mean you are saying yes, Bran?" Gregory whispers.

"Yeah. Yeah, I wanna be yours, Master."

Gregory's lips pull into a lazy smile. "I should have nearly died sooner, I suppose."

Bran pokes Gregory in the ribs. "Fuck that. Don't even joke about it."

An attempt to laugh makes Gregory cough again and Bran tells him to shut up and rest. He politely calls him Master after that, which amuses Gregory to no end.

 

* * *

 

A few days later Bran makes it back to the harem room to shower. Dare, Lily and the twins shower with him. They ask him questions and Bran answers them. Gregory is doing well. He still has some recovery time but he's miraculously going to be fine.

Jai has been moved to a guarded room by himself. Derek is the only one who's been in to see him.

Bran needs to see him.

He goes to the room and the guards let him inside. They also come in with him to make sure nothing violent happens.

Jai is sitting in a corner of the room with his knees pulled up to his chest.

They just look at each other for a long moment, Jai in his corner, Bran just inside the door and flanked by two of Mikael's guards.

"You don't love me anymore." Bran says, more of a statement than a question. "Because you think I've been a bad dog. Because of Master Gregory."

"He is no Master."

"He's _my_ Master."

"No."

"Yes."

"But you are ours. You are our dog. You belong to our Mistress."

Bran exhales a puff of air and shakes his head. "Jai... no. I'm not hers. She never wanted me the way she wanted you. She never loved me the way she loved you. On top of that, she's bat shit crazy. She made me kill people, Jai. Do you get that? Did she ever make you kill people? Did she ever make you rape people?"

Jai has no answer for that.

"Jai. She's not coming for us. She's not coming for any of us. You have to face facts. You can have a fucking life out here, away from all the shit that happened in the Gallery. You can have a life with all of _us_. Me, Dare, Lily and the twins... we love you. You're family."

Jai says nothing.

Bran says nothing.

It's another standoff where they just stare at one another. Finally, Bran goes to sit on his haunches and put his paws in front of him, sitting perfectly like a dog beside Jai. Usually, Jai would put a hand on his spine and start to pet him. For hours, Bran stays like this. Jai never pets him.

Eventually, Bran leaves to return to Gregory in the lab.

Gregory must notice Bran's dejected look when he returns. His Master pats the side of his bed and scoots over to make room for Bran. "You saw Jai?"

"Yeah." Bran says.

"And?"

"He thinks I'm a bad dog." Bran says. "His mind is fucked up. He still thinks the Mistress will come for him."

"You're not a bad dog, Bran."

"I know." It surprises him that he knows he's not a bad dog. He's mostly just sad about Jai's loss of love. People always quit loving him after awhile. "He doesn't love me anymore."

"I don't think that's true, sweet pup." Gregory says. "I think he's confused and hurting and he's lashing out at me. Unfortunately you're connected to me and I'm sorry for that."

"I'm not sorry. Just don't quit wanting me, okay?"

"I couldn't if I tried, Bran." Gregory's fingers comb through Bran's hair. "I heard you tell Jai that you love me after he'd attacked me. And I love you too."

Bran snuggles in close and flicks his tongue over Gregory's collar bone. "You're just trying to romance me into fucking you. Has Doctor Javid cleared you for fucking?"

Gregory laughs. "Not yet, sweet pup. Soon."

"What about this, Master?" Bran's hand slides down Gregory's front beneath the sheets. He strokes his Master's cock a few times.

"Oh, well that... what Doctor Javid doesn't know won't upset him."

Bran grins and dips beneath the sheets so that he can take his Master's cock into his mouth. Neither Gregory or Bran are left disappointed.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a short(?) story of one of the minor original characters in [A Lion Tamed](http://archiveofourown.org/series/435904). It can stand on its own but reading about the world of A Lion Tamed is a good idea.
> 
> The world is very dark and twisted. If you are triggered by non-consensual rape elements, this isn't the fic for you.

A few weeks pass and things start getting back to normal. Neither Gregory or Bran are stuck in Doctor Javid's lab anymore. Although they have to go in for weekly checkups. Unless his Master asks for him the whole night, Bran has resumed his shift at Passion, working the floor half the night and kneeling next to Gregory the other half.

He hasn't been outside of Passion in weeks. But Derek has assured him that they'll go work on one of the houses he's restoring soon.

Penelope has been by twice. The second time she met Gregory and approved of him wholeheartedly. Bran kind of likes that she approves. Penelope wouldn't approve of anyone who wasn't inherently good. 

She keeps bringing him things, little colorful baubles that he leaves in Gregory's room. There's a bobble head Doberman, some silly putty, a few squeaker toys and some sparkly stress reliever you're supposed to squeeze again and again.

Between that and Gregory stocking up on clothes for him for when they travel, Bran now owns more things than he has in some time.

Speaking of traveling, Gregory has assured Bran that they will do it often, but they will always come back to Passion. This is ground zero. Mikael has said that they can make it their home for the long term. Mikael has also said that Bran will always have a place and a job here.

Bran goes in to see Jai every day. He sits at his side for awhile, chewing on a toy. Jai has yet to pet him. Jai doesn't say anything to him. Although, there was one time when Jai cried while Bran sat next to him. When Bran tried to hold him, Jai pushed him away.

Derek keeps telling him that Jai needs space and time. Bran remembers how he'd felt after he'd attacked Doctor Javid. It might not be the exact same thing, but he understands needing space and time.

Still, Bran doesn't miss of day of sitting with Jai. And he won't miss a day, not unless he and Gregory are traveling. He's still Jai's, whether Jai wants him or not.

Bran has been a dog all morning on this particular day. He's chewed on his alligator and Gregory has played ball with him. He's barked and licked at his Master's face. He's rested on his pallet beside Gregory while he's worked.

It's about time for him to go see Jai for the day. It always makes him sad to see Jai and get little to no reaction out of him. But it's something he has to do.

Bran stretches on his pallet and uses his head to get Gregory's hand away from his laptop and onto him. Gregory grins and pets at Bran's hair. Bran gets up on all fours and nips at Gregory's earlobe.

"Gonna go see Jai for a little while." He whispers.

Gregory hrms and closes his laptop. He grips Bran's chin and gets him to look at him. "I demand kisses first."

Bran smirks and gets up to his knees. As Gregory moves his computer aside, Bran straddles his lap. He leans in and kisses at his lips. Gregory kisses him back and he likes that. His Master is a very good kisser.

"Maybe when you get back we can play together." Gregory says, his hand slipping down to fondle at the intimate parts between Bran's thighs.

That touch just makes Bran want to stay, to be honest. "Or, I can go see Jai afterwards."

Bran feels Gregory's smile against his lips. "Then fuck me, sweet pup. Fuck your Master."

Gregory never has to tell Bran twice. They shift so that Bran can push Gregory's sweat pants down. When Gregory bends over, there's a plug in his ass, just as Bran has known there would be. He thinks it's kind of hot that Gregory wears one just because he likes the way it feels.

It also makes it easier for Bran to remove the plug and slam his cock in to replace it. He fucks Gregory hard. His Master pushes back into it just as hard. Bran always leaves bruises on Gregory's skin and his Master seems to like that. Bran likes it too.

Bran fucks him until the world becomes almost too tight. Gregory is working his own cock in his hand. When Bran cums, he howls. Gregory likes it when he does that. Bran pulls out and he hears Gregory whisper something.

"What?"

His Master rolls over, still working his own hard, thick cock in his hand. "Claim me, Bran." He says.

The corners of Bran's lips pinch, almost grinning but not quite. He grabs his cock and he pisses on Gregory's abdomen, down where Gregory is getting himself off. That seems to be enough to send his Master over that edge.

There was a time when Bran had been repulsed by what he's just done. Now, it's everything he wants. It's his normal. It's Gregory's normal too.

Bran knows he's one lucky bastard.

 

* * *

 

Derek has briefed Bran on everything that happened with his parents. They had been shocked at what had happened to their son. They'd been sad and angry. Then Derek had convinced them that Bran is where he needs to be. Derek told them how well Bran has been doing, even that Bran is seeing someone.

Gregory's laptop is set up and Bran is wearing some of the clothes Gregory has bought for him. Everyone seems concerned about what might happen when Bran talks to his parents. Gregory has convinced the others that it should just be Bran and himself in the room.

His Master sits off screen but close by as the skype video connects.

The minute he sees his mom and dad, Bran feels tears gather in his eyes. They look good, if a bit older than he remembers them. They look like what home used to be for the man he used to be.

His mom is crying immediately.

"Oh, Bran. Honey. We didn't know. We should've kept better track of where you were. We're so sorry we let you get away. We love you, honey. No matter what, we love you."

Bran means what he says to her right off the bat. "Mom... I'm okay. I'm better than I've been in a long time."

Off screen, Gregory smiles at him. Bran feels the corners of his lips pinch, then he gives in. He lets himself smile too.

 

~The end~

 

*****Thanks for reading Bran's Story! Thank you to anyone who left kudos and took the time to leave comments. They really do keep this train on the tracks in every way. Much love to you all! ♥

Dare's story is coming up soon. So watch for that if you're interested!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are love!


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